Imagine
by Aussiegirl41
Summary: What would happen if the Cylons never attacked? An A/U with familiar characters and scenes. Set approximately two years after the decommissioning ceremony.
1. Starting Over

**This is one of the first things I ever wrote, so it holds a special place in my heart, even though I would probably change so much if I could.**

**Chapter one - Starting Over**

William Adama walked slowly towards Admiral James O'Neal's office. He never rushed anymore. The demands of commanding a battlestar had been replaced with tedious paper shuffling that was disguised as employment.

Maybe he should have gone back to working on a freighter after Galactica's decommissioning, he thought. At least he would then have been off the ground instead of stuck in this semi-retirement limbo on Picon.

He had no clue as to where his life was headed. He had no wife or family to go home to. Zak was gone. Anyone else he had held dear was busy living their own life. Lee was serving as a Major on the Pegasus. Saul and Ellen were flitting from one casino to another on Caprica. Kara was now a Captain on the Columbia. Still in trouble with her superiors if rumours were to be believed. No longer did he even have his crew to be his surrogate family. He was now truly alone.

Being summoned to Jim's office was at least breaking up the boredom of the day. Jim's assistant told him to go right in.

Jim's office was a lot larger than his small cubicle. It made him nostalgic for his quarters on the Galactica. He hadn't even brought his own desk to his Picon office. It and his chair were stuck in the corner of his three-year-leased apartment, covered with books he kept meaning to tidy up and place on the new bookshelf.

"Bill," Jim said with a salute before motioning him to sit. "Do you realise what the date is?"

It was a rhetorical question, so Bill remained silent as the Admiral continued. "Forty-five years, Bill. You've chalked up forty-five years of service. They're going to pin a frakkin' medal to your chest, Bill." O'Neal laughed at his own joke.

"A medal, sir?"

"A Medal of Distinction. The Godsdamn President is presenting it no less. Two weeks today. Here on Picon. Give my assistant a list of anyone you want invited."

"Thank you, sir. I'm not sure what to say." What could he say? Between his disastrous last mission on the Valkyrie and his less than important situation here now on Picon, he wouldn't exactly agree that the last couple of years had been years of "distinction".

0.0.0

He was getting old and he'd put on weight. His dress uniform was feeling tight in places it just wasn't supposed to be tight in. It would do for today but if he had to wear it again he'd either have to get it adjusted or visit the gym. He glanced in the mirror again and wondered what the president would think. The president hated him, this he was pretty sure of. Their first meeting had not gone well. He couldn't imagine either of them forgetting it. He tugged at his collar before putting back on his glasses and heading for the ceremony. Let's just get this over with, he thought.

0.0.0

"On behalf of everyone here in this room, it is my pleasure to present you, Commander Adama, with the Medal of Distinction for your forty-five years of courageous service to the Colonial Fleet."

He bent his head so the president could reach to put a sash over his head.

"Congratulations."

The president held out a hand which he took and shook briefly. He glanced around the room and was surprised to see Lee and Kara amongst the guests. He hadn't been sure if either would attend.

"Thank you," he said into the microphone on the dais.

The president was now standing with the other dignitaries behind him.

"This is an honour. I won't bore you with a story about the good old days. As much as I would love to return to all their glory, of being called Husker and the adventure that incites, I'm afraid this old man's body wouldn't hack it anymore. Especially my knees."

A polite chuckle spread across the room at his attempt at humour.

"The president would have to create a new tax just to pay for my medical expenses if I got in a viper again."

This time he clearly heard the president's chuckle behind him.

"I would, however, like everyone to observe a minute of silence to reflect on the soldiers who can't be here today. The soldiers who never got the chance to clock up forty five years in the Colonial Fleet. The soldiers who died during the Cylon War. The soldiers who died at the hands of terrorists or criminals. The soldiers who died due to accidents or friendly fire. And to the families and friends of those soldiers who were left behind to cope with their grief. I ask if we can have a minute's silence to remember. Lest we forget."

The auditorium remained silent as per his wishes. After the minute, he turned back to the microphone. "We will remember. So say we all."

"So say we all," the audience repeated back sombrely.

0.0.0

Well, he'd done it again, thought the president. William Adama's speeches were certainly mood killers. Thank the Lords the new position he was about to be appointed to didn't require him to be in public relations.

He did, however, have all the qualities they were looking for, such as loyalty and patriotism to the Colonies, in addition to forty-five years worth of knowledge and experience.

There were other qualities he did possess that the president was not so sure about. His pride, arrogance and stoicism for starters. Plus his infernal stubbornness. How were they going to put up with that?

There was something about him, though, that just couldn't be ignored. Even though one could say his speech was depressing, it was still heartfelt and potentially inspiring. There was also something that shone from his eyes. Intelligence, definitely, but something else as well, something undefinable. It was something that made you think you could trust him in a crisis.

Several key military personnel had been questioned with regards to Commander Adama and the same two words seemed to keep coming up in their conversations - trusting and trustworthy. Just what they needed for this assignment.

0.0.0

"I beg your pardon?"

Commander Adama knew he was getting old but now he was worried about his hearing. Had the president just told him that he was going to be assigned to a new position on Caprica City? That he was required to start there next week in the capacity of 'Military Adviser'?

"I'm a bit confused, doesn't the head of the Admiralty advise you in military matters?" he asked.

"No," said the President, "you misunderstand me. I don't need someone to advise me on military matters, I need someone to advise me in the ways of the military. It's been glaringly obvious since my appointment to office that, with my background, I am utterly clueless when it comes to the military. I need someone to ensure that they know the correct protocols so that I don't embarrass myself, as well as someone who can - how shall we say it? - cut through all the bullshit to ensure I am getting the correct advice."

Did the president just say 'bullshit' to him? Was he really about to say yes to this job offer? Living on Caprica was a big plus, of course. At least he would be able to see some old friends, including Saul, occasionally. Was it worth working with the president though? The jury was still out on that one.

"So can I expect to see you in an office in the presidential wing of the Caprican Government Building next week?"

"Yes, I suppose you will, Madam President," he said.

She offered her hand to shake on the deal. He couldn't help but notice how her pale hand contrasted starkly with the dark skin of his own. He wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like if that hand ran its silky softness down his body. He quickly snatched his hand away and shook his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and hoped she never noticed his sudden withdrawal. It was most likely an unrealistic hope as he doubted she would ever miss anything. If he was going to work with her on a regular basis, he would have to attempt to guard himself against his involuntary attraction towards her.

0.0.0.

Laura Roslin tried to look into William Adama's eyes but he was deliberately looking away. She hadn't thought it was a mistake to trust him but now she fleetingly had doubts. She tried to imagine William Adama rushing off to the media to expose the secrets the President of the Twelve Colonies but somehow he just didn't seem the type. She didn't think he was secretly yearning for ten minutes of fame either. No, she had to trust someone and she had decided it would be William Adama. She was going to stick with that decision.

A young man had come over to join them. She assumed it was his son who she remembered had flown his Viper at the Galactica's decommissioning ceremony. They had the same distinctive blue eyes. Other than that, there didn't seem much resemblance physically, though she couldn't help but detect their matching mannerisms. By his stance, the younger Adama evidently shared his father's arrogance and pride.

William Adama was politely introducing his son to her – Lee Adama, he said, a Major on the Pegasus.

"Oh," she said, "the Pegasus, under Admiral Cain?"

"You've met?" Major Adama asked.

"Yes." She couldn't think of much else to say. Maybe the less she said about her views on Admiral Cain and her rigid attitudes, the better.

She glanced over at the Commander again. He was watching her and this time she was the one to look away. She would have to remember to be careful around him. He clearly didn't miss a great deal. She was sure his beautiful blue eyes could penetrate straight down to her soul.

She wondered suddenly what those eyes would look like when they were looking down at you and filled with passion.

_Ridiculous Laura_, she chided herself, _you have enough problems to worry about without adding illicit thoughts of William Adama to the list._


	2. Whatever Gets You Thru the Night

**Chapter Two - Whatever Gets You Thru the Night**

"Knock, knock, may I come in Commander?"

"Of course, Madam President, if you can fit."

William Adama had not expected a visit from the president on his first day. His office was a mess of half open boxes, and with items he was desperately trying to organise into some sort of order onto his desk, filing cabinet and book case. The first half of the day had been spent sorting out security passes and the like, so now, even though it was after lunch time, he had only just started his unpacking.

"You found your office then?" she asked. "It's a rabbit warren around here but I'm sure you'll soon get your bearings considering Galactica's many twists and turns. My aide, Billy, spent the entire time there lost if I remember correctly." She smiled at the end of the sentence.

He wished she wouldn't smile like that at him, especially if he was to remain impartial to her charms.

"My office," she went on, "is about three down that way. I'm sure you won't miss it though-" she made a cute snorting sound, "-it's the one with about six aides outside and the Twelve Colonies' Insignia on the door."

He tried to stop the twitch of his lips that threatened to make his face break into a beaming smile at her joke. She was definitely going to be harder to resist than he first thought.

She leaned over, flicked one of the cartons open and peeked inside. Her head tilted to one side. "_Dark Day, Somewhere in the Shadows, Love and Bullets, Dying Again, Caprican Crime_," she read the titles of the various books in the box. "Are you actually going to be working for me, Commander, or just sitting here reading?"

"Sorry, Madam President. This carton was supposed to be delivered to my apartment but there was some sort of mix up and it came here instead," he tried to explain. His damn uniform was feeling tight around his neck again.

"You seem to have a great collection, Commander." She picked up _Dying Again_. "Do you mind if I borrow this? It's one I've never read. I have a real passion for this genre."

"Of course, Madam President."

"I might take a while to get it back to you though," she added. "For some strange reason I don't always get time to indulge in reading."

"I can't imagine why," he said dryly. "And please, consider it a gift. I make it a rule to never lend books."

She smiled up at him again, absentmindedly pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. "Thank you, Commander," she said with genuine warmth. "I'll leave you to it then. I'll expect we'll have to have weekly meetings at least, so I'll have one of my aides sort out some times with you."

She turned on her heel and he found himself propelled to the doorway to watch her walking down the hall. She clipped along so fast he had the impression she must be late for another appointment. He was surprised she could even walk at all with the tightness of her short skirt and the insane height of her heels.

He slowly turned back to his mess of an office and tried not to think about the mental image of her legs he now had imprinted in his brain. He would definitely have to go back to the gym if he was going to keep up with her.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin hurried back to her office with, for the first time in a long time, a huge grin on her face. Billy was waiting for her when she walked in.

"Madam President," he addressed her politely.

"Billy," she acknowledged, "what goodies have you got lined up for me this afternoon?"

"Well, ma'am, the evening newspapers have just come off the print. It appears Richard Adar has done an interview for the _Caprican Moon_."

She grunted. She wasn't fazed by Richard Adar. He tried to make it into the papers at least once a month. She could only imagine what sort of scandal he was going to try and sell this time.

When she had nominated to run for the presidency in the last poll, she had proved so popular that he had, in desperation, made their affair public. He had attempted to make her look like some sort of obsessive woman scorned. It hadn't worked. In fact, it had back fired on him big time. She had won the election in a landslide.

"Don't worry, Billy," she said, "no one cares what Richard Adar thinks anymore. Including me."

She realised this was true. She was well and truly over Richard Adar.

"Also," Billy continued, "there's a story about Tom Zarek."

"The terrorist?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. It appears he is up for parole next month."

"Mmm," she murmured. "Add it to the agenda for when we meet with the Admiralty on Wednesday. Also when you do up a debriefing file with all the details, copy Commander Adama. I'd be interested in his opinion." It would be a good excuse to meet with the Commander again, she thought.

She was somewhat disconcerted that she was looking for excuses to meet with any man, let alone William Adama.

"Anything else?" she asked Billy, shaking her head to try and dispel any lingering thoughts she was having about William Adama and the way he looked in his uniform.

"Nothing exciting. There's a story about the Mr Cable and his Treasury and Finance Cabinet. It's a favourable story though. Good growth in the economy. Interest rates are remaining steady. Financial circles are lauding him and his budgets."

"Good. Send him a quick happy comp-mail from my account for me, will you? I'll give him a call personally tonight when I have more time. I have a meeting with the Gemonese Ambassador in twenty minutes so I might try and squeeze in a sandwich before then, if you can get Tory to order one up from the kitchen? Thanks, Billy."

Once Billy had left her office she glanced over at the paperwork that was requiring her signature on her desk. She should be catching up while she had a free moment but, instead, she found herself picking up _Dying Again_ and running her hand over the cover. She had intended to only read the blurb but somehow she found herself engrossed in the first chapter when Tory came in with her lunch.

0.0.0.

Bill Adama ached all over. _Idiot_, he thought. After spending the day lumping around boxes and unpacking, he had somehow found himself signing up at the gym located in the basement of the Government building. Two hours of sparring later, he'd returned home to unpack more boxes.

After dinner he had indulged in an extra long hot shower that had succeeded in bringing out aches and pains in his obviously too long neglected muscles. He gingerly semi-collapsed into his couch just as his phone started ringing. He looked up at the time. 2200 hours. He wondered who was calling at this time of night. Also the phone had only been connected that morning and he hadn't given out the number to anyone as yet. Probably a wrong number, he guessed.

"Adama," he grunted into the mouth piece. Stretching out to reach the phone had caused a new painful sensation somewhere in his arm.

"Hi," a now familiar voice said. He was in shock. The president was now ringing him at home? So much for keeping her at arms' length, he thought.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked.

"No, Madam President," he murmured, trying to keep his wandering imagination from speculating where she was calling from. _Her bed?_ He gulped trying to moisten his now extremely parched mouth.

"I just wanted to call and tell you how much I'm enjoying _Dying Again_. I'm really loving the Amanda character."

Laura Roslin was trying to kill him - obviously. The Amanda character was the main character's, Whitfield, love interest. They are both in the police force with Amanda being much higher in rank as well as an extremely attractive and highly sought-after woman. Whitfield, however, is at the end of his career with old fashioned ideals that don't mesh well with the police hierarchy. He has no family and isn't exactly considered a catch in anyone's circle. Amanda finds herself attracted to him regardless, and they pretty much frak their way through the entire second half of the book, before he dies throwing himself in front of a bullet to save her.

He didn't want to think about the parallels between the characters and Roslin and himself, or the similarities in their circumstances. Or the fact that, as president, she was vulnerable to assassination attempts.

He didn't realise he had been immersed in his thoughts for so long until he heard her ask, "Commander? Are you there?"

"Yes, sorry. I was just wondering how you got my number?" he asked. Only half a lie, he thought. He had been wondering earlier.

She chuckled. "I'm afraid I abused my presidential power there, sir," she said.

The way she said 'sir' evoked memories of there first conversation on _Galactica_ when he had given her a dressing down like a schoolgirl and she had sarcastically agreed to his bidding regarding the computer linking with a sharp 'sir' at the end of her sentence. The Secretary of Education had certainly come a long way since then.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the book," he said sincerely.

"Very much so. Thank you again for giving it to me. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, Madam President. A meeting at 1100 hours I believe."

She chuckled again. "Yes, Commander, I'll see you at eleven o'clock."

She rang off then. He slowly returned the hand piece of the phone to its cradle. He struggled up and out of the couch, poured himself a drink and picked up a book from one of the yet to be unpacked boxes. Sleep was obviously going to be elusive after that phone call, he thought.


	3. Yes, I'm Your Angel

_Chapter Three: Yes, I'm Your Angel_

Laura Roslin jogged along the Campbell River path. A bodyguard jogged in front of her and one behind her. They matched their pace to suit hers.

A few steps behind again were approximately six journalists. David Nelson, from the Caprican Tribune, was on a bicycle.

"Madam President!" he shouted. "Are you going to respond to Richard Adar's claims that you faked your cancer to win sympathy votes?"

She kept jogging.

"Madam President!" This time she recognised Melissa Brandon's voice. "Are you going to release your medical records to the public?"

She kept jogging.

"Madam President!" She couldn't pick this voice but she certainly wasn't about to turn around and check out who it was. "Did you get the idea from watching your mother die?"

_Gods, just keep jogging, Laura. _If she stopped now and found out who that reporter was she would not be responsible for her actions.

Laura jogged up to the Government Building. She bounded up the steps and headed for the rear lift, which was for her use only. When she arrived on the 52nd floor, she once again resumed her jogging.

She couldn't help but glance towards Commander Adama's office as she went past. She could see he was there. Maybe a quick good morning with the Commander might make her forget that reporter's tactless accusation.

"Good morning, Commander," she said.

He turned, clearly surprised at being greeted to the President of the Twelve Colonies in a sweatsuit first thing of the morning.

"Madam President. Good morning."

She leaned over and did a couple of warming down stretches, using his doorway as leverage for her weight.

"You're starting early," she said. She checked her watch, it was only half past seven.

"And you," he replied. "I thought I could unpack some more things early, so that I can actually do some work today."

"Someone bucking for a promotion already?" she joked.

He just looked at her, outwardly impassive, but she inexplicably knew he was smiling on the inside. She could almost see the sparkle that was threatening to emit from his blue eyes. She laughed again and jogged off to her office, wriggling her ass in a faint hope that he was watching it.

0.0.0.

Bill arrived at President Roslin's office five minutes prior to their scheduled appointment. He didn't intend to be late for their first meeting. A dark woman with long hair greeted him and introduced herself as Tory Foster, one of the President's aides. She ushered him to a chair in a waiting area and went through a door - one with the Twelve Colonies' insignia on it, he chuckled to himself.

Almost as soon as Ms Foster went into the office, she came back out and told him he could go right in.

The president was on the phone when he entered and she waved distractedly towards a chair.

He took in the room as he sat. Her office was large and rather impersonal. There were no private trimmings of any kind that he could see. His quarters had always been cluttered with photographs, but there were none in this room. No pot plants or paintings or knick knacks neither, of any kind.

If he had been told this a few weeks ago, he would have said Laura Roslin was cold and aloof. However, he now guessed that this was, for her, President Roslin's office and she was carefully separating her from Laura Roslin.

He wondered who had jogged past him this morning? For some strange reason, he hoped it had been Laura Roslin.

Never being one to eavesdrop, he had been taking no notice of her telephone conversation until he heard his name. "Yes, Commander Adama will be joining us," he heard her say. "Yes, yes I realise, Admiral," she continued. "We may have to do something about that soon." She paused every now and then, obviously when the person on the other end spoke. "Yes. Of course. Yes. Good idea. Thank you. Okay. I'll see you then. Goodbye."

She hung up and gave him one of those dazzling smiles he was now finding himself craving. "Sorry, Commander. Would you like a drink? Coffee? Something cold?" she asked. She moved over to an area behind her desk and poured a coffee into a mug and then glanced over at him enquiringly.

"No. I'm okay. Thank you."

She brought her coffee with her and sat near him in one of the visitor's chairs instead of at her desk. They sat in silence for a while, her sipping her coffee, he just watching her, waiting for her to open the conversation.

She surprised him with her first question. "Are you religious, Commander?"

"Sorry, Madam President?"

"Do you believe in the Scriptures? The Gods. You know, the Lords of Kobol and such."

He hesitated, speculating on where this line of questioning could be going. Her demeanour seemed quite sincere though. "I'm sorry, I know some of your campaign had considerable support from the Gemonese and the Sagittarons but, no, I don't. I'm an atheist, actually. Does it matter?"

She looked down at her cup, seemingly considering her next words very carefully. "Have you ever heard of Chamalla, Commander?"

"No, should I have?" he asked.

"Probably not. Chamalla is a herbal extract which is being used experimentally with cancer patients."

"You used it when you had your cancer?" he guessed.

"Yes, I did. Chamalla, unfortunately, has quite a few side effects. One of them being hallucinations."

"I see."

She sipped at her coffee again. He waited for her to go on, patiently waiting for her to reveal whatever she was comfortable with revealing.

"I saw things. Things I didn't understand. These things were very real. They weren't like dreams really. They were much, much more." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand and believe in her.

He reached out and took one of her small pale hands in his. Later he could berate himself about the stupidity of such a move, but at that moment it just seemed like the natural thing to do.

She rewarded him with a small smile and then went on. "When I was not doing so well in hospital, a Priestess came to visit me. I spoke of some of the visions. She realised that some of the visions I was having were very similar to the Scrolls of Pythia. I'm assuming you're not familiar with the Scrolls of Pythia?"

"No." He smiled. "Can't say it's in my book collection."

She snorted. "Basically, to cut a long story short, Pythia guided the Thirteenth Colony to Earth."

"Earth?"

"Yes, Commander. You see, I need you to help me find Earth and our brothers and sisters of the Thirteenth Colony."

"Madam President-" He shook his head. "Earth doesn't exist. It's a fairy tale. A bedtime story."

"No, Commander. I've seen it. I've been on every one of the Twelve Colonies and the planet I saw in my visions was not one of them. I believe the Gods have chosen me to be this generation's Pythia."

He sat for quite a while, just trying to take in her words. "I didn't realise you were so religious Madam President," he finally said.

She chuckled. "Well I didn't either. Is it a problem?" she asked.

"No," he said. "It's just new."


	4. Well, Well, Well

_Chapter Four - Well, Well, Well_

Laura Roslin had no idea what William Adama was thinking about her, or the information she had just shared with him. His eyes were not focused on her. She thought he was maybe trying to take it in and make sense of it all. She couldn't blame him if he was. She'd been trying to understand it for approximately the last twelve months, to no avail.

He probably thought she was some mad religious zealot who was going to, given her position, cause mayhem with fanaticism.

The only thing that did instill in her some hope that she had been correct in her faith in him was that he was still holding onto her hand. She tried not to dwell on how much she liked the warm sensation that hand was spreading through her body. Or how it inexplicably made her feel safe.

Finally, he looked up and into her eyes. "How many people have you told this to?" he asked.

"Well, the priestess, obviously. Her name is Elosha. She came to Galactica's decommissioning, you may remember?"

He nodded. Of course he would remember. His mind was like a steel trap.

"And Billy." She paused for a moment. "And you."

He looked up at her in surprise. She grimaced and explained further. "Billy doesn't think it would score us many points in the polls if I were to admit that I was taking hallucinogenic drugs."

"Smart man, that Billy," he said dryly. "So," he continued, "you don't really need a Military Adviser. That was all a front."

"No, no, that's true. In fact I wish I already had you working for me a couple of weeks ago. You see, there's more I need to explain."

The telephone rang at her desk, causing them both to start. She rose to answer it, reluctantly allowing him to let go of her hand in the process.

It was Billy. "Madam President, we're ready for you at the press conference."

She checked her watch, surprised that she and the Commander had been talking for so long. She quickly assured Billy she was on her way and hung up.

"I'm sorry, Commander, I have a press conference to attend. Apparently I need to reassure everyone that I did, in fact, nearly die from breast cancer and that I am currently in remission. The fact that I spent six months getting around with no hair on my head, eyebrows or eyelashes should have been a big hint to the press." She grimaced again.

William Adama gave her a sympathetic look.

"Maybe we need a break anyway," she continued. "Give you a chance to process your thoughts about your crazy Commander-In-Chief," she joked, hoping that wasn't really what he thought of her.

She cowardly never gave him a chance to answer and instead surprised herself by asking him if he would escort her to the press gallery. After his 'of course, Madam President', he stood and she placed a hand upon his arm as they walked along. She couldn't explain why the gesture felt so natural.

The bar three doors down from the Caprican Government Building was a lot more upmarket than the bars Saul Tigh usually frequented.

Rows of bottled beers with fancy labels from every colony were lined up on display behind the two bartenders who were dressed in pristine white shirts and immaculately pressed black trousers. Blue neon lights ran around the bar's footrest and music was being piped in from somewhere, playing alternately between jazz and blues. There was no pool table, dart board, triad table or any of those miniature bar versions of pyramid which Ellen was so fond of. Instead there were several armchairs and low tables scattered around, creating, what he guessed they like to call, intimate areas.

Bill Adama sat in one of the chairs while Saul ordered their drinks. Saul could tell he was brooding about something. He had hardly said a word since they had arrived. The Old Man needed to get himself a woman and retire, Saul thought.

"Seeing you're the Commander around here on the big money, you'll have to pay for the next three drinks with the frakkin' prices this joint is charging," he complained as he sat. "Heard you won a medal," he added conversationally.

"Yeah, give them out for anything these days," Bill said. "Good behaviour, attendance, playing well with others," Bill jokingly added.

"Ha! Hear you're playing with the Godsdamn President, no less. What's that all about?" he asked.

"I'm her Military Adviser," Bill answered, looking down, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass.

Saul remembered their encounter when Roslin was the Secretary of Education on Galactica. Bill hadn't been very impressed with her then. Saul thought he'd fish to see what Bill's opinion of her was now. "She's a hot piece for a woman her age."

"Saul, she's the President of the Twelve Colonies. You need to show some respect," Bill snapped harshly, gulping some of his drink.

So, Saul thought, Bill obviously now had a higher opinion of the woman. He wondered how much Bill's regard had improved. He decided to push a bit more. "What?" He arched an eyebrow and curled his lip. "You frakkin' her Bill?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You've been hanging in the gutter with Ellen too long," he snarled.

Saul knew that Bill lowering himself to insults about his wife meant this was an extremely touchy subject. Surely the Old Man wasn't such an idiot to fall for the President of the Twelve Colonies? From what he'd heard about her, she'd chew him up and spit him out all before breakfast.

He'd long ago stopped being intimidated by Bill's growl though, so he decided to continue his taunting to see just how far his best friend had fallen. "You just want to frak her then?" he asked. "Wouldn't be the first one. She let that prick Adar frak her though, didn't she?"

He felt the sting in his chin before he had even seen Bill's fist coming at his face. Well, well, well, Saul thought, Roslin's got him by the Godsdamn balls.

0.0.0

Bill Adama was wrapping his hand in ice when his telephone rang later that night. "Adama," he answered, somewhat unsteadily due to the amount of alcohol in his system.

"Commander Adama? It's Billy Keikeya," the caller announced. "I'm just ringing to let you know that there's been a change to the Admiralty meeting that was scheduled for tomorrow."

"Yes, Mr Keikeya?"

"The venue for the meeting is being shifted to the _Pegasus_. We'll be departing in _Colonial One_ at one o'clock in the afternoon. You'll need to pack an overnight bag as you and President Roslin won't be returning until late Thursday. The president just wanted me to check that this wouldn't conflict with any personal plans you may have."

"No, Mr Keikeya, that's fine. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight."

Bill Adama hung up. He tried not to reflect on his disappointment that it had been Billy ringing him and not Laura Roslin herself.

0.0.0

Bill was shaving in the guest quarters aboard _Pegasus_ prior to the official dinner he was required to attend when there was a tap at his hatch. He opened it to find the president and Billy outside. He politely apologised for his appearance and let them into the room.

"We decided we should let you escort us to the dinner, Commander, as Billy seems to have issues with directions on these battlestars," Roslin said as Bill finished up getting ready. Billy, he noticed, didn't bat an eyelid at her teasing. It was obvious the president and her aide had a close relationship.

"What do you think about Cain?" she asked. "Maybe I should try that 'no chair' thing out at the next Quorum meeting," she snorted.

"Hmph," was all he said. He didn't like to gossip about his colleagues, even to the president.

"Her methods of commanding seem a little opposed to your own Commander," she continued.

"Yes, I suppose. I always liked to earn respect rather than demand it. Of course that isn't to say her methods are not just as effective," he said, trying to be diplomatic.

She hummed slightly. He decided he liked the sound.

"I just want to add that your official duty tonight is to ensure the admiralty don't gang up on the President of the Twelve Colonies. In short, sir," she paused, giving him one of _those_ smiles, "you're here to protect me."

He looked deep into her eyes hopefully conveying assurance that he would always be there for her. Then, he just smiled and offered his arm for her to hold onto as they headed towards the Ward Room for their dinner.


	5. Nobody Told Me

_Chapter Five - Nobody Told Me (There'd be Days Like These)_

Laura Roslin was allowing Commander William Adama to guide her along the gangways of_ Pegasus_ when a pretty girl in uniform came around the corner and launched herself at him.

"Commander!" the girl cried out, hugging him like a long lost father Laura presumed he was to the young girl.

"Dee!" he said. "I heard you were transferred to _Pegasus_. I was going to come looking for you tomorrow. How are you?" he asked sincerely.

"Okay, sir." The girl grimaced slightly before continuing. "I'm missing you as my CO though."

Adama chuckled. "I'll ask Lee to look out for you. Any other ex-Galacticans on board?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Boomer, a couple of deckhands, and Doc Cottle has been filling in for the ship's doctor for a while."

"I'm sure you'll be well for a while then." He laughed at some private joke between him and the young girl. He then turned to Laura and made some introductions. "Madam President, this is Petty Officer Dualla. Dee was my Communications Officer on _Galactica_."

"Actually, sir," Dualla said, "it's Lieutenant now. Last Colonial Day was good to me."

After congratulating Lieutenant Dualla, the young girl started having a private conversation with Billy. So, this was the girl Billy was spending so much time on the telephone with, Laura thought.

She and the Commander unobtrusively moved away from the young couple, giving them some privacy.

"So, what's this about Colonial Day, Commander?" she asked him.

"That's when the Fleet give out their promotions," he explained. "Every Colonial Day. Excepting in times of war, when due to any number of reasons, officers can be promoted at any time."

She didn't want to think of those reasons. So instead, she gently shoved his body teasingly. "So I have to wait another couple of months until I can make you Admiral," she said.

She unexpectedly felt him tense beside her. "What do you mean?" he asked stiffly.

She looked up at him, confused by his reaction. "If you are going to vote on any issues regarding the Fleet, apparently you need to be an Admiral."

"If _I'm_ going to vote?" he ground out. "If you want some political puppet in the Admiralty, madam, I'm afraid I'm not your man."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, his attitude fuelling her temper now.

"I'm not going to be the President's 'yes' man." His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. "Is that what this has all been about? All these little friendly gestures towards me were all just to rope me in, make me subjugate to your ideals and wishes."

She couldn't believe he would think her so devious. Proudly she tilted her head up to give him what she liked to call her 'presidential stance'. "If, _sir_," she harshly ground out, "I was going to choose someone to become my puppet, I certainly would never have chosen someone as stubborn and arrogant as you!"

"Madam President?" A voice came from behind them. It was Billy. She wondered how much he had heard of their argument.

"The Ward Room is this way," Adama said gruffly before turning on his heel and walking away, not bothering to see if she or Billy were following.

0.0.0.

Laura Roslin had always thought William Adama would be a Commanding Officer who treated his crew like a family. She always imagined him treating them with respect and as equals, rather than inferiors.

Now, however, she had a very clear image of him being able to overwhelm the soldiers who served under him. The look that was currently in his eyes would be enough to quell any thoughts of insubordination in the ranks. The look he was currently giving her.

She was not, though, some petty officer who was going to wither at his harsh stare. She had no idea what she had done now, but she wasn't going to yield to his censure. She refused to break eye contact with him.

She saw him murmur something to Admiral Nagala, with whom he had been talking , and then he was making his way towards her. She tilted her chin up in defiance.

"I underestimated you," he rasped in her ear.

"What am I to be accused of now?" she snapped back.

"I just had the most interesting conversation with Admiral Nagala. He wanted me to try and convince you to change your mind about disabling the Fleet's computer networking."

She blanched. She had wanted to tell the Commander about the whole computer thing before the Admiralty meeting, but she hadn't had the chance.

"How convenient, madam, that the one thing you previously knew about me was that I do not agree with Dr Baltar's networking program. I see that my worth as an officer in the Fleet, my forty-five years worth of experience etcetera, had _nothing_ to do with my appointment. You were just using me all along."

"No," she denied.

Granted, when his name had come up originally she had realised the benefits of not having to convince him on the subject of computer advancement, but she had realised rather quickly there were more benefits of having William Adama as her ally than that.

She looked up into his eyes, seeing all the betrayal and hurt that he was feeling there, and unusually, she felt a pain rip through her own heart.

0.0.0.

Laura sat rather miserably for the remainder of the dinner. She politely listened to the conversations that floated around the table all the while wanting to be alone with the Commander and continue their conversation.

She wanted desperately for him to understand her reasoning on his apparently orchestrated appointment.

She, Laura Roslin, the President of the Twelve Colonies, wanted to get down on her knees and beg him to forgive her, to have him believe in her.

"Madam President?" It was Billy. "Madam President, I am, er..." Billy had gone a shade of red. "I'm just going to the Observation Deck to, er, look at the view with Lieutenant Dualla."

She laughed for the first time that night. "Fine, Billy," she said, "I'll see you in the morning."

After Billy left, she moved around the room making her polite goodbyes to the guests. The Commander was near the exit, talking to his son, whom was on _Pegasus_ at the moment acting in the position of Executive Officer.

"Commander," she said, trying to keep her voice polite in front of company. "Major." She nodded at the young Adama.

"I'll escort you to your quarters," Commander Adama said. She was suprised, but never protested.

They walked through the ship side by side. He occasionally placed his hand on the small of her back when they had to cross over hatches. His innate sense of gentlemanly manners winning out over his anger.

"Commander!"

They turned to see a young girl coming along the gangway.

"Boomer!" he said with obvious pleasure. The girl stopped near them but didn't launch herself into his arms as Lieutenant Dualla had.

"Good to see you, sir," the girl said respectfully. The girl looked over at her and Laura couldn't help but notice the dark look that seemed to cloud her eyes. "Madam President," the girl said in a far away voice. The girl then drew out her sidearm and fired two shots directly at her.

She felt herself screaming and falling to the ground. The back of her head hit a piece of metal on the ship's floor and she would wonder later if she'd been knocked unconscious for a moment. She saw blood spurting across and around her body but strangely she could feel no pain in her body other than her head.

She was vaguely aware that the young girl was being wrestled to the ground by two Marines who had been on her detail.

She lifted her head to look down at her body. The reason she had fallen backwards and hit her head was because Commander Adama was lying on top of her. It wasn't her blood spilling out - but his. He had thrown himself in front of her and taken the two bullets directly into his chest.

She wriggled out from under his body and quickly took off her jacket to use to stem some of the blood.

She didn't realise that she was screaming for help until she saw several of the dinner party coming towards her. Lee Adama's screams of '_dad_' mingling with hers of '_Commander'_.

The last thing she remembered was someone, maybe a medic, administering a needle into her arm and moving her aside so that they could attend to the Commander.


	6. I Don't Wanna Face It

_Chapter Six - I Don't Wanna Face It_

Laura Roslin awoke on a high narrow bed, with crisp white sheets, and an uncomfortably large pillow under her aching head.

She scanned her room and, considering the amount of time she had spent in hospital rooms in the last two years, observed several telltale items that made her assume she was in Pegasus's sick bay.

Squinting at a clock on the wall opposite her, she made out it was early morning. She could hear a general clamour of voices just beyond the faded green curtain that closed her off from the rest of the ward. She sat up slowly, waiting for the blood in her head to right itself before standing gingerly. It felt like a jackhammer was working on a road in her brain.

She was still fully dressed. The Commander's blood dotted a macabre pattern all over her blouse and skirt. A vision of him lying on the metal flooring pooled in blood flashed through her mind, making her shake in reaction.

She groped at the curtain. Billy was just outside her room and he jumped up to attention when he saw her moving about.

"Madam President, you're awake? Sit down, I'll go and get the doctor."

"The Commander?" she squeaked but Billy was already walking purposely away, apparently in search of the doctor.

Billy returned a few moments later with a man, whom, if it wasn't for the white coat he was wearing and the stethoscope draped around his neck, she would have presumed to be anything but a doctor. He gently pushed her down into a nearby chair and started to probe the back of her head.

"He'll live," the doctor answered when she once again asked her first obvious question regarding the Commander's health. "The bullets nicked his aorta and he generally lost a lot of blood. We had to remove his spleen."

She let her body relax somewhat for the first time since she had awoken at the thought that the Commander was alive. "Will we move him back to a Caprican hospital?" she asked.

"Can't see why," the Doctor continued in a gruff voice. "The less we move him the better. Besides, the sick bay on Pegasus is as modern and well equipped as any hospital in Caprica City."

To her utter amazement, the doctor then took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it up right there in the sick bay.

"You seem okay," he said in a voice that she now guessed was raspy from years of tobacco abuse, "but here are some painkillers for your headache." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a container of pills which he handed her. "Come and see me straight away if it gets any worse."

"Do you mind?" she asked, gesturing to the cigarette.

"Not at all," he replied. "I suppose you'll want to see him now?"

Flabbergasted that the doctor continued to puff away, not seeming at all intimidated by the look she was giving him or her status as President, she could think of no suitable retort. So instead she just murmured acquiescence and followed him along the halls of sick bay.

Adama was lying behind some sort of transparent plastic curtain which she assumed was sterilising him from the rest of sick bay. She lifted her eyebrow to question as to whether she could enter and the doctor gave her an affirmative nod.

Her heart broke to see such a proud and brave man as the Commander in such a vulnerable and dependent situation. The intermittent beeping of several machines that he was hooked up to breaking the silence in the otherwise eerie room. Red stitching drew a dramatic line down his chest and torso, effectively bisecting his body in two, sickening her with its length. A series of blood and pus filled gauze adhered to the line erratically causing a ghoulish jigsaw affect. His skin's hue was an unhealthy shade of yellow and when she feathered a touch across his hand, she felt its coldness.

She longed to murmur gentle words in his ear, hoping that by some miracle he would subconsciously know she was there, but propriety halted her actions as the curtain rustled on the far side of the room and the Commander's son entered.

He sat down next to the bed on the opposite side to her. She looked up and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"We haven't been that close over the last couple of years," Lee Adama spoke in a hushed voice. His red rimmed eyes stared intently at a spot somewhere over the top of the Commander's head. "I've blamed him for everything: our transient lifestyle when I was young, his and mother's divorce, my career choice and, especially, Zak dying. I argued with him at the Galactica's decommissioning. Acted like a petulant teenager with a chip on his shoulder, even though I knew it was a distressing time for him, giving up his last command."

He sighed and she reached out and took his hand and gave it a small squeeze. "And yet," the young man continued, "he keeps reaching out to me. Invites me to his Distinction Medal ceremony. Telephones me when I get promoted." His voice lost some of its dreamlike whispered quality and altered to a harsher tone. "I keep, figuratively speaking, knocking him down and he just keeps getting back up and offering his love again."

Laura knew what it was like to cut oneself off from the rest of the world. She also knew what it was like to lose a sibling.

"It's been fairly well documented since I became President, I know, but I lost both my sisters and I understand how you can let yourself look for someone to blame. It's a type of guilt. Guilt that you survived and they didn't. You think there must be some reason why they died and you didn't; it must be someone's fault. In my case, that someone ended up being me. In your case, you hit out at someone else. Someone closest to you. Your father."

Lee Adama looked up at her then, as if only recognising for the first time that she was in the room.

"My father died in the accident as well," she whispered. She still struggled with the magnitude of her loss. "You've still got a chance with yours."

She wanted to say more; make him understand that he couldn't throw the love his father offered back in his face.

She looked over at the Commander again and wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like for him to bestow some of his amazingly vast capacity to love on to her. She shook her head slightly at her own neediness when she should only be thinking of the Adama family's welfare.

"He's going to be all right. You know that," she finally settled on telling the young man.

"Yeah," Lee Adama's voice cracked somewhat. "Yeah," he said a little more clearly. "I know that."

The doctor came in and busied himself with checking the Commander's vitals.

"When will he wake up?" she asked him.

"Knowing him, when he damn well wants to, probably," the doctor answered in an abrupt manner to which she was now beginning to get accustomed.

The plastic curtain rustled again to reveal Admiral Nagala and Cain. "Madam President, we are ready to debrief you on the would-be assassin if Doctor Cottle has finishing examining you," Admiral Nagala said.

"Yes, yes," barked the doctor, whose name she now knew to be Cottle, the same man the Commander and Lieutenant Dualla had been joking about the night before. "Off with all of you. My patient isn't going to improve with you lot creating a circus in his tent!"

She and the Admirals made their way, now flanked with four Marines she noted, to the Ward Room.

Nagala handed her a dossier as they entered the room. "Her name is Sharon Valerii, Madam President. A Lieutenant, Raptor pilot, enlisted in the Fleet for approximately four years now."

"She served on the Galactica with Adama prior to the decommissioning and has been on Pegasus since," Cain continued. "I've had no behavioural issues with her, nor had Adama reported any. She's still in the brig. By law we can keep her there for up to six months without any formal charges. We've done some preliminary questioning."

"And?" Laura prompted.

"At first, ma'am, she seemed incoherent. Didn't seem to know what she had done. Even had the audacity to ask how the Commander was and thanked the Gods when she was told he was okay. The only other thing she keeps saying is that no one gave her an order to shoot at you."

"Strange thing to say. Maybe protesting too much?" Laura mused. "Do you believe she has any co-conspirators on Pegasus?"

Cain shook her head in a negative response, straightening her spine in defence of that line of questioning. Laura knew that it was unsettling the other woman that the assassination attempt had happened on her Battlestar, where she demanded such exacting standards. "From the talk amongst the crew, I think not," she shot back at Laura.

"She has no family or friends in the colonies to speak of," Nagala continued smoothly before Cain could become any more agitated at the President's supposition. "She is, in fact, from Troy. Managed to avoid the tragedy as she was training at the Fleet Academy when it occurred. We're not sure if losing her entire family in the mining accident has caused long term psychological problems that hadn't been apparent up until now. She had a relationship with a Senior Chief Petty Officer on the Galactica. He is currently being interrogated at his current posting on the Battlestar Odyssey."

"I want her off Pegasus," Laura said in an authoritative voice. "Put her on any other Battlestar brig. I don't care, as long as it's secure." She could see a questioning look pass between the Admirals. "I don't want her on board when the Commander wakes up," was all she said as explanation. Laura looked down at her bedraggled appearance. "I'm going to clean up and I'll see you both at nine o'clock for our scheduled meeting."

0.0.0.

With the Marines posted outside the hatch of her guest quarters, Laura spun the locking mechanism and stripped out of her ruined clothing. She turned on the shower, tested the water with her hand prior to stepping in and under the scorching stream. She washed off the blood, sweat and antiseptic scent of the sick bay. Then, she sunk down into the shower tray and let the tears that had been building inside of her since she woke up that morning freely flow.

0.0.0.

The Admirals, the President and her aide had just sat down at the tables in the Pegasus Ward Room and were going over their agenda when Major Lee Adama burst through the hatch with a decidedly frantic look on his face.

Laura's immediate thoughts were of his father, and fear that he had taken a turn for the worse.

"Excuse me, sirs." He saluted generally to all in the room.

"Is there some sort of emergency, Major?" Admiral Cain asked, clearly not impressed by the unannounced interruption.

"I thought you should know," Lee Adama said, "I just contacted a family friend, Captain Kara Thrace, about my father's shooting."

Lee paused, shaking his head slightly, seemingly to Laura, trying to sort out how he was to proceed with the information he needed to convey to his superiors.

"Yes, Major?" she encouraged, relieved at least that the news had nothing to do with the health of the Commander.

"I took a while to contact her as she is on shore leave, on Leonis. She's spending a few days with a friend of hers, a Lieutenant Karl Agathon."

"Is there a point to this charming love story, Major?" Cain asked sarcastically.

"Well, the love story isn't between Kara and Karl. Also spending the last few days with them is Karl's new girlfriend." He paused again, and even Laura's patience was now starting to run thin that he was failing to get to the point. "His girlfriend, whom Kara says is still there with her, is also on shore leave... from the Pegasus." Lee paused again and raised his pale face up to the meeting attendees. "Madam President, Admirals, it's Sharon. We have one Sharon Valerii in the brig, and there's another. Sharon Valerii is also on Leonis."


	7. Instant Karma

_Chapter Seven - Instant Karma _

"Hey, Cally, have you heard about Boomer?" Specialist 'Jammer' Lyman asked as he pulled on his orange overalls ready for the start of his shift on the _Pegasus_ deck.

"Yeah," Cally sneered. "Never did trust that bitch."

"Ha! You've just always been jealous of her and Chief Tyrol!" he shoved her playfully.

"Shut the frak up, Jammer. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, I do know you put in for a transfer to the _Odyssey_. I wonder why that would be, then?"

Cally Henderson threw her clothes in the laundry bag and stalked off, muttering several swear words under her breath.

0.0.0.

"We've put her in the brig on _Columbia_. It was the closest Battlestar to Leonis, madam. We've also taken Karl Agathon into custody for now until we are surer of his part in her scheme."

"Thank you, Admiral," Laura Roslin sighed. The last few days had been trying to say the least. She was actually longing for some sort of crisis on the Colonies that had nothing to do with the Fleet.

"Has she said anything at all?" she asked Nagala.

"Only that she had nothing to do with the shooting. He exact words were, 'That was Boomer, not me. I make my own choices.' I'm sending over some interrogation experts to see what they can find out."

"Fine. Let me know when we get any further information. I'll be heading back to Caprica City within the next hour."

0.0.0

"When the frak are they letting him out?" Cally Henderson practically yelled down the telephone line in the _Pegasus_ deckhands' quarters.

"I don't know, Cal," Diana Seelix's voice crackled down the line from the_ Odyssey_. "Apparently they've been interrogating him since Boomer shot the old man. They think he was in on it somehow."

"Frak off!" Cally hissed. "Chief would never do anything like that."

"Cal, I know how you feel about Chief but there's not much we can do about it."

"You need to go to your CO. Tell him that Chief's innocent," Cally pleaded. "I know he's innocent. I'm going to see Cain, see what she can do."

"Frak Cal, you need to calm down. Cain will end up putting you in the brig for insubordination," Diana warned.

"I don't care, Seelix. I know he had nothing to do with that bitch Boomer shooting at the President."

Laura Roslin's high heels clipped down the hallway of the Caprican Government Building at a rapid rate. She was running late for her next meeting. Sometimes she felt her entire life was made up of one meeting after another - endless conversations, limited actions.

Today, she would also have the added distraction of Commander Adama in the room. He had returned to work yesterday. She still hadn't seen him.

She felt apprehensive about facing him. She knew she owed him her life. If those bullets had hit her lean body instead of his strong and battle-toughened one, she wouldn't have survived.

She couldn't control her mixed feelings, however. On the one hand she was desperate to see him and determine the status of his health for herself. On the other hand, though, she was extremely nervous about his reaction to her. She was worried he may have decided that she really wasn't worth it - that throwing himself in front of two bullets for her was a foolish idea.

Deep down she knew this was a ridiculous fear but, nevertheless, it was real, and the main reason why she hadn't visited him once he had awoken from the induced coma.

She took a deep breath and plastered on her presidential face before she walked into the meeting room. She walked around to the empty seat which had obviously been left for her, expressing general greetings to the other people in the room before she sat.

Admiral Nagala started the meeting off: "The doctors have confirmed the Sharon on _Columbia_ is pregnant, Madam President. We're finally moving the other Sharon from _Pegasu_s today over to the _Atlantia_."

"Good. How many people know about them being Cylons?" she asked.

"Well, the interrogation experts, the Fleet Admiralty and the doctors on _Columbia_."

"I think we should keep it that way for a while."

Laura jumped when she heard Commander Adama's voice. His comment made it impossible for her to continue to avoid glancing in his direction. She slowly turned her head and her eyes eagerly drank in the sight of him. His weather-beaten face still had a slightly sick pallor about it. His voice, however, remained as strong and imposing as ever.

"We don't want to cause widespread panic," he added.

"Yes, you're right," she said, smiling shyly in his direction. "How are you going with removing the computer networking on the Battlestars?" she then asked Nagala.

"We've finished three so far. We envision all Battlestars will have stand-alone computer programs within two months."

"Good," she said. "After that is completed, we can discuss the mainframe program."

"Madam President," Admiral O'Neal cut in, "you do realise that it cost six billion cubits to install these programs and the media will have a field day when they get wind of you removing them for no apparent reason."

"Let me worry about the media, Admiral," Laura snapped.

She knew the Admiralty still didn't agree with her decision to remove the computer networks, but she had more leverage on the subject since the Cylon Sharons had been discovered. She was at least fortunate in that respect. It wouldn't have looked good if she had told the Admiralty she wanted the networking removed because of an hallucination.

"And the comp-mail and mobile phone network that Adar's administration established?" Tory asked. "The public have had two years to appreciate their convenience. There is an election coming up in a few months, Madam President," she warned. "I'm not sure telling them they have to go back to paper mail and land lines is going to win you any votes."

She sighed. On this subject Tory was correct.

She was surprised when Commander Adama spoke up again.

"Maybe we should take these things one step at a time, Madam President," he said. "Look at the Battlestars' deprogramming as the first battle of the war."

She looked over at him again. His perfect blue eyes captured her green ones for, so she thought, too long. She only roused herself from their spell when Nagala moved onto a next subject on the agenda.

"Are you sure?" Cally asked.

"I'm sure. I've been kind of having this relationship with a medic and he has a sister who is also a medic, on _Columbia_. There's a Boomer on _Columbia_. They are Cylons. Skinjobs the medical staff have dubbed them. They look human but underneath they're machines. There are several copies apparently."

"Frak me." Cally could think of nothing more intelligent to say.

"They think Chief might be a Cylon too. They've just brought in some interrogation experts from _Atlantia_ to question him again."

"Chief is not some frakking Cylon."

Laura Roslin was going over her schedule for the rest of the day with Tory while the rest of the meeting attendees straggled out. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Commander struggle to stand, leaning heavily on the chair for support before exiting. Her heart nearly broke in two. He obviously was still in a lot of pain. All her fault, she thought...

She dismissed Tory, and decided she surely had a few minutes before her next meeting to squeeze in a quick visit to the Commander.

When she arrived outside his office, she was surprised to find his door shut. She knocked and waited for a response from within.

After a minute, the Commander opened it and politely stood back from the doorway to allow her entry. She nervously smoothed down the front of her skirt and felt the apprehension of confronting him again return.

"I'm glad you're okay," she finally said.

"Thank you, Madam President. Do you mind if I sit down?"

She nodded and he practically fell into his chair. She gracefully lowered herself into his visitor's chair so that she wasn't looking down at him.

"Are you sure you're well enough to return to work?" she asked.

"Yeah. I just feel strange. Like I'm closer to the ground."

"I'm, uh, I," she stuttered. Her public speaking skills for once abandoning her. "I just wanted to thank you. I mean, for saving my life."

"It was a reflex," he said. "I would have done it for anyone."

"You would?"

Her eyes snapped up to his at this comment and she saw the humour sparkling from their blue depths.

"Oh," she exhaled. Obviously, he was only teasing.

"I need to thank you. You've helped me win my son back. I don't know what you said to Lee, but we seem to be on much better terms now. All because of you," he added sincerely.

"Oh," she said again. Then she surprised herself by asking something she hadn't planned on. "I was wondering, Commander, if you would go out with me tomorrow evening to an opening of a new display at the Delphi Museum? There's something there I would like to show you."

"Of course, Madam President."

"Good. I'll see you then, sir. Unfortunately, I have another meeting." She stood and made her way to the door. "I'll get Tory to give you the details about tomorrow."

.

Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii was being led from the brig to the port hangar bay. They were transferring her over to _Atlantia_. She had shackles on her wrists and ankles, as well as an uncomfortable collar around her neck.

She saw Cally Henderson come around the hallway but the Marines took no notice of the deckhand. Boomer saw the look on Cally's face though, and knew what she was going to do before Cally even raised the gun.

Boomer was surprised by how much the bullet that pierced through her stomach hurt. Her body involuntarily slumped, but the collar held her up, making the pain from the shot even worse. She heard a lot of screaming and yelling - Cally, the Marines, maybe she was doing some herself, she wasn't sure. Then, she felt nothing. She was numb. She also could no longer see anything.

Why was she blind, she wondered.

Something was suffocating her. Thick water... it felt like. It was swallowing her entire body. She couldn't breath. She gasped, trying to find air. The sticky substance was now running up her nose. Air, I need air, she thought. She gasped again, this time she thankfully gulped in the necessary oxygen her lungs were screaming for.

She was lying on her back. Someone had removed her shackles and collar. She still couldn't see. The sticky substance that had nearly suffocated her was also in her eyes. She sat up and tried to wipe some of the goo off so that she could see.

She felt a hand touch the side of her cheek and run down her arm. Her eyes finally adjusted and she looked up at the owner of the hand.

She was looking into a set of eyes identical to her own.

"Welcome, sister," the woman said. The woman's voice was also identical to her own. "You're safe now."


	8. Number Nine Dream

_Chapter Eight - # Nine Dream _

William Adama glanced up at the clock. The President's car was due in ten minutes and he still wasn't dressed. Laid out on his bed was his grey dress uniform, next to a pair of black trousers and a blue long sleeved shirt. He couldn't decide which to wear.

The problem was, if he wore his uniform, he was bound to stand out in the crowd. He always felt uncomfortable when he wore his uniform amongst the general public. He had never gotten used to the staring. He knew it was just a natural reflex, and people also stared at police officers and firemen, but he still disliked the attention.

He did want to wear the uniform, however, to protect himself. This wasn't a date, and wearing his uniform would ensure he remembered that fact. Just because he was an old fool who thought Laura Roslin was the most attractive, witty and intelligent female in the Twelve Colonies, didn't mean he had to embarrass himself by letting her know he thought that.

He peered into the mirror that was attached to one of the sliding doors on his wardrobe and tried to be dispassionate about his appearance. His hair wasn't too bad, he thought. He did have streaks of grey here and there but luckily he wasn't showing any signs of balding. He had often been told his eyes were special. He always tried to keep eye contact when talking to people in an effort to distract their attention away from his face. His face was a mess - full of scars and marks caused by a combination of acne, fighting, and Viper accidents in his youth.

His body had been in good shape until a couple of years ago. His general sedentary lifestyle since yielding his last command had caused his girth to expand. He still tried to spar now and then but gravity and age were working against him. He didn't have much hair on his body; thankfully, he had found women actually preferred his light smattering to the proverbial fur coat. It was surprising when he considered the speed with which his facial hair grew. It would be quite possible for him to shave twice a day if he wanted.

He doubted anyone would be impressed with the newest addition to his chest though. The long blotchy red line which ran down his body had been a necessity to save his life, he knew, but he hardly thought women would be lining up to admire it.

His legs were bowed. He usually tried to hide them with the correct cut of trousers.

In fact the only other thing he probably had going for him was his hands. Women liked his hands. For some reason, his hands had managed to avoid the tribulations that plundered the rest of his body, with just a few scars, mainly from punching the wrong surface, scattered over them. Mostly though they remained as smooth as the day he was born. They and his nails were actually so perfect that, over the years, he had been accused of secretly getting them manicured and conditioned. It was really the only time he had been accused of acting in any way feminine. His pure manliness apparently, according to women in his past, was one of his main attractions.

So would a woman who could have any man out of the billions on the Twelve Colonies look twice at him? No, was his definite answer. He could assume Laura Roslin saw him as an employee. She was looking to him for guidance, not unwanted overtures.

The uniform it would be.

0.0.0.

Laura Roslin waited nervously in the back of her chauffer-driven car for Commander Adama to join her.

She grabbed her compact out of her clutch purse and checked her makeup. She snapped it shut again when, with the bright lighting in the vehicle and the strange distended angle of the glass in the mirror, she saw every wrinkle and crease that lined her face. She quickly switched off the interior light to make it dark enough that he wouldn't notice her imperfections.

She should try and distract him with some other parts of her body. Her breasts were still okay, she recognised. Large, compared with the slenderness of her frame, and she was able to fend off gravity with expensive bras. She had several scars on the left one due to various biopsies and her partial mastectomy, but they weren't visible when wearing clothes. She adjusted the top of her dress slightly, making it dip a touch lower and exposing a bit more white skin. Maybe he won't see the freckles in the dark, she hoped.

She fluffed up her hair with her fingers. Her other secret weapon, she thought. If he was concentrating on her hair and her breasts she may have a chance.

William Adama wondered what his neighbours would think of the sight on their front kerb. Five dark cars with blackened windows were lined up in the narrow street. The front and back two had men dressed in dark suits standing alongside, their eyes sweeping the landscape and their hands occasionally touching their ears. He was led to the middle car by another bodyguard who opened and shut the door for him before retreating to the front passenger seat.

Laura Roslin sat against the far door looking like a goddess. He was so accustomed to seeing her dressed in suits with blouses and jackets that the sight of her wearing a long red dress with a low dipping bodice made him almost lose all the resolve he had just sworn to before dressing. He croaked out some sort of greeting and tried to dispel the fantasies he was currently concocting about her and the plush leather seats of the car.

A black panel separated them from the driver, offering them privacy.

As the car pulled away and was soon speeding through the Caprican streets, they began to talk about general topics.

He accepted a drink in a vain hope it would mop up some of the sweat he could feel breaking out on his top lip due to her magnetism. He had the insane urge to reach over and pull up the top of her dress into a more modest position so that he could stop staring at the tempting creamy white mounds. He could even see where the sun had kissed freckles onto them and he longed to place his mouth there and do the same. He doubted, however, he would actually pull up the top if he did touch it. Ripping it off seemed more likely.

He wriggled in his seat, hoping that the throbbing in his groin didn't get any worse. It was going to be a long night.

Laura was faintly disappointed Adama was wearing his uniform. She had been hoping he might have relaxed somewhat and worn civilian clothing. Some sort of shirt that didn't button right up to the top of his neck would have been nice.

Not that he didn't look good in his uniform, she conceded. She had never imagined herself to be the type of woman to be attracted to a man just because he was wearing a uniform but she had to admit that she longed to reach out and smooth down the material to ascertain for herself its exact texture.

She felt herself blush and her tongue flicked out and touched her suddenly parched lips at the inappropriate vision she was having of dragging a naked William Adama down by his dog tags onto her equally naked body.

Bill was glad when their car came to a stop and her bodyguards were opening their doors. He stood for a moment on the sidewalk, breathing in some fresh air in attempt to clear his head of her alluring image. Moments ago her tongue had unconsciously licked at her lips making him almost lose control. He walked a few steps behind her as she stopped to politely greet the museum patrons lined up near the entrance of the building.

He watched as she walked through the throng, with cameras flashing and microphones being thrust towards her. It rammed home to him the reality that she was way out of his league. Over the last few weeks he had fooled himself that she may have thought of him as her equal instead of her subordinate. She was a charming woman with an innate ability to put people, including him, at ease. He had allowed himself to relax far too much in her company. However, she was a politician, and she probably acted that way towards everyone.

He berated himself once again for being an old fool.

The Delphi Museum's curator droned on and on. Bill watched as the President politely stood on a raised section of the floor, apparently riveted to the man's every word. Every now and then she glanced in his direction and the corners of her mouth would rise just faintly - so slight that he thought maybe he was imagining it the first time.

But the third time he was sure her eyes twinkled as well.

Finally, the man sat down and she then took her turn at the lectern. Her speech was much more entertaining. She kept it relatively short, laced it with a few jokes, but still made some important points about education and history. He chuckled at all of her jokes, and after she was finished, he clapped so hard his palms hurt. He recognised then and there she had him wrapped around her finger.

Laura Roslin made her way to where William Adama was standing politely viewing some of the museum's new pieces. She liked the way he stood out in the crowd. Even though he wasn't tall, she could pick his broad shoulders out from the other side of the room. She walked up behind him and leaned over to speak directly into his ear, out of necessity due to the general noise of too many voices in the crowded room, but also out of desire to get closer to him. "Sorry," she said, "I think that's all of my official duties done now."

He turned towards her and she was sure, just for a moment, that she saw a flicker of answering desire within his beautiful blue eyes.

"I'm sure I'm old enough to entertain myself for a while, Madam President."

"Over here," she said, taking his arm and gently guiding him through the museum. "This is the display I wanted to show you."

They wound through the crowd until they stood in front of a large glass case that contained a gold plated arrow with jewels on the feathered fletching area.

"The Arrow of Apollo," she told him.

He looked at her questioningly. "On Kobol the Thirteenth Tribe found a map which guided them to Earth," she continued. "The map was in the Tomb of Athena. The leader used the Arrow of Apollo to open the tomb."

"More Pythia?" he asked.

"The Arrow of Apollo is my number nine dream."

She looked at his face to gauge his reaction. He looked down at the floor and rubbed his nose where his glasses usually sat.

"You dreamed of the arrow when you were taking Chamalla?" he frowningly asked.

"Yes." She looked back to the display. "I had a vision of the arrow before I even knew it existed."

"Number nine?" he asked, as if he had just realised what she had said earlier. "Just how many visions did you have?"

"Twelve," she answered. "I wrote them down in case I forgot them. Assigned them numbers." She looked at the ground, slightly embarrassed at the admission. "Maybe that was the school teacher coming out in me, or maybe I'm just anal."

"Hmph," he grunted.

"So, sir, I think our next task is to figure out where Kobol is," she said.


	9. Jealous Guy

_Chapter Nine - Jealous Guy _

William Adama looked away from the Arrow of Apollo and directed his gaze to the President of the Twelve Colonies. Had she really just asked him to find Kobol? A mythical planet which had been apparently inhabited by Gods and humans alike.

He didn't believe in the Gods. He, therefore, would find it difficult to believe in a planet where they supposedly lived. After seventy-five odd years of space exploration, no one had come across any habitable planets other than the twelve they already resided on, and now, she expected him to find two he didn't even believe existed. Kobol, then Earth. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"Laura, I thought you must have left and I'd missed you." A male voice came from behind them.

She swung around and a smile lit up her face. "Wally!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't see you earlier." She let go of Bill's arm and took a step closer to 'Wally'. She then leaned over and allowed the man to kiss her on both cheeks.

He was shocked at the way his body tensed up at the sight. He was also fairly rattled 'Wally' called her by her first name. Even Billy, whom he knew was as close to Laura Roslin as anyone, still addressed her as Madam President and never as 'Laura'.

"No, I was running late. Mini crisis at Grayson Holdings, I'm afraid."

Bill couldn't help but notice the man never let go of her hand as he spoke.

"You know you can come back and work for me any time the high flying corporate world gets to be too much."

She never seemed to be in any rush to extract her hand from the other man's clasp.

"I've told you before, Laura, I'm not interested in politics. Never was, just got caught up with Adar like you did. Unlike you, I had the good fortune to get out."

'Wally' looked across at Bill then.

"Oh," Laura Roslin gasped, swinging around to give Bill an apologetic look. "This is my new Military Adviser, Commander William Adama. Commander, this is Wallace Gray. Wally used to work in the government before he left to start up Grayson Holdings. You've heard of them?"

"Yes," he answered. Who hadn't, he thought, this guy not only called the President by her first name - kissed her, held her hand - but he was also a multi-billionaire. The old fool taunt came burning into his brain again. He begrudgingly held out his hand for Wallace Gray to shake.

Gray took hold of his hand and gave it a lacklustre shake, looking from the President and back to him again.

"A Commander?" Gray raised an eyebrow. "What have you done with that Admiral of yours? Nagala, isn't it? I thought he was becoming the permanent fixture on your arm at these sorts of functions."

He whipped his head around to check her reaction to this statement. She seemed completely compose, while he felt his heart was being squeezed tightly.

She had been escorted by Admiral Nagala? Nagala had held her arm? Nagala had sat in the back of that limousine with her? Nagala had eyed her off in these types of dresses? He had always gotten the impression that she and Nagala had a tenuous relationship at best and yet, now, he finds out he had been her escort on several occasions.

"He was unavailable and, conveniently, I was able to mix in some business tonight with the Commander," she said.

Business, she said. Tonight was business. Only because Nagala wasn't available. How many times was he going to call himself an old fool tonight?

He felt Wallace Gray looking him up and down again. He wondered how many of the emotions that were now charging through his body were showing on his face.

"Shouldn't you have an Admiral as an Adviser?" Gray asked.

The President didn't seem to notice the sarcasm in Gray's voice.

"He'll be an Admiral in two weeks time," she replied.

He clenched his fists by his side. He was glad they were in a public arena as the rage building inside him was threatening to explode.

"Excuse me," he bit out. "I'm just going to get a drink." He had to get away for a moment to calm down. "Would you like anything Madam President?" he asked, still unable to completely shed his manners. However, he certainly wasn't going to go as far as to ask Gray if he wanted anything.

She looked across to him and he could tell she was attempting to get him to make eye contact with her, but he kept his eyes averted in case she saw the hurt and anger he was feeling reflected in them.

"No," she answered slowly. "I'm okay, thank you."

With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the bar.

Later that evening, unlike the drive to the Museum, they sat in the back of her car engulfed in an uncomfortable silence.

As if his jealous reaction to Wallace Gray wasn't enough of a shock, then he had to cope with the image of her and Nagala together. To top it off, she had brought up his promotion to Admiral once again. They had, of course, never finished their conversation on this point due to obvious reasons, and now didn't seem the right time to bring it up either.

Although he may as well, he thought. After all, she had said tonight was 'business'. He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"Are you going to tell me why you're so mad?" she asked.

He looked over at her then. He wasn't the only one mad, he realised. Her green eyes were positively glowing with passion, but not the type of passion he had hoped for on too many occasions.

"It's the Admiral thing again, isn't it?" she snapped.

"Are you so used to getting your own way that you think you can manipulate everyone?" he snapped back.

"You have got to be kidding me," she ground out. "Manipulate the great Commander William Adama?" she scoffed. "I'd have more luck at piloting a Viper!"

After that comment, they sat in silence again. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest, apparently now spellbound by the view out the far window. He sat in the corner, as far away from her position as possible, equally spellbound with the view out his window.

When the car came to a stop, he never waited for the bodyguard but pushed the car door open with excess force and stepped out onto the kerb. He had planned on slamming the door shut but once again, his innate manners took over. He looked over to where she sat, still concentrating on the glass of her window. He sighed and she slowly turned at the sound. Their eyes met for what seemed like hours. He was surprised to see hers swirling with unshed tears.

He sighed again, climbed back into the car and sat in the seat, not saying anything but hoping to convey he still was her loyal servant.

"I guess I'll see you in the office," she finally said in a quiet voice.

"Yes," he acknowledged. With that, he once again climbed out of the vehicle and walked towards his apartment.

"I'm afraid I don't have much good news, Madam President," Billy stated. "Dr Baltar has come out today and given several interviews vigorously criticising your decision to make the Battlestar's computers stand alone. He has brought up his program in the Defence Main Frame as well as, as Tory predicted, the comp mail and mobile phone systems."

"Hmph," Laura grunted. "I bet he never mentioned the millions of cubits he's stands to miss out on when we no longer have to pay him commissions for using his programs."

"He's gaining a lot of popularity, Madam President," Tory added. "Maybe you should rethink your stance on this issue."

Laura remained silent. She would take the Commander's advice and fight one battle at a time.

She had a dossier locked in her desk drawer detailing everything Home Security could find out about Doctor Gaius Baltar. She had ordered the report several months ago after the doctor had featured in two of her dreams.

In one dream, he was kissing a tall blonde woman. In the second, she had been chasing a child and the doctor was standing with the same blonde woman, before he had lifted the child into his arms and walked out of the room, which she was almost sure had been the Caprica City Opera House. Nothing incriminating in either of the dreams, but seeing she had only met the doctor once briefly at a function with Richard years ago, she couldn't quite explain why he would be in her visions.

There also wasn't anything in the file which incriminated the man. Nothing endeared him to her - he was a serial womaniser - but that wasn't actually against the law.

"What else have you got for me, Billy?" she asked, effectively changing the subject.

"Well, as I said, not good news. Tom Zarek has been released from prison," he said.

"Yes, last week," she said. She was confused as to why Billy was raising this issue again after they had discussed it previously - once at the Admiralty meeting, as well as at her Home Security meeting - with the same outcome; they had to accept the judges' decision.

"You'll get to meet him in a month's time, Madam President."

Laura looked up at Billy, confused. Why would she be meeting with the former convict?

"He has just been voted in as the Sagittaron representative on the Quorum," Billy explained.

"What?"

"Under their Law, a citizen gets full rights as soon as they are released from jail," Billy informed her.

"Oh my Gods." She rested her head down on the desk, wishing to be anywhere but where she was at the moment. "Okay," she mumbled into the wood of the table before lifting her head to face her two aides. "I'll think about both of these subjects and get back to you. Tory can you let Commander Adama know I want to see him when you go please?"

0.0.0.

William Adama hadn't seen the president for over a week, and now, as he walked into the inner sanctum of her office, he guessed she hadn't summoned him for a social visit.

She barely looked up from where she was busy scribbling notes. He sat in the chair opposite her and waited patiently. Finally she peered at him over the top of her glasses. Next, she reached over, grabbed a folder, removed from it a sheet of paper, and threw this sheet over the desk towards his general direction.

"The list of candidates Billy did up for me for the position of Military Adviser. You'll see it's in alphabetical order. You're first. I concede that when I saw your name I remembered your views on networking of computers and thought they would be comparable to my newly-found ones due to my dreams, but it wasn't the one and only reason why you were chosen for this position."

She was still mad, he could see. He wondered if her gorgeous red hair and the temper were linked.

She pulled out another piece of paper.

"Unbeknownst to me, my security officers are given a list of promotions for the Fleet to carry out background checks on the recipients. It apparently wouldn't look good if the Fleet promoted anyone with a record. Here's the list the Fleet sent over to the Home Security Office." She roughly threw the paper at him. "Once again, it's in alphabetical order. Once again, you're first."

He looked down at the paper. William Joseph Adama, it read, current rank Commander, proposed rank, Admiral. He looked back up at the President. She was still seething.

"You may note the date on the top of the memorandum," she ground out.

He looked back down and read the date. Five months ago. His eyes flew back up to hers.

"That's all, Commander. You may go," she dismissed him and started concentrating on her paperwork again.

Laura Roslin sat at a table near the edge of the dance floor. Now that the fireworks had finished, a jazz band was playing an up tempo song for the several couples enjoying themselves on the dance floor.

She was not enjoying herself. Her conversations had been limited. It was Colonial Day and most of the people in attendance of this celebration did not want to spoil their revelry by getting into a discussion with the President. Obviously, none of them could think of anything other than the business of politics to discuss with her. She wondered what time would be polite enough for her to leave.

"Hello." A familiar husky voice spoke the greeting near her ear. She swung her head to be dazzled by his spectacular blue eyes.

"Admiral Adama," she said. His newly acquired title sounded good, she thought.

"Hmph," he snorted as he fingered the bright gold pips on his collar. "I never gave up hope. I just stopped trying to get these a long time ago."

"Just goes to show you, Bill, never give up hope." She looked over at him and smiled, faintly surprised with herself for using his given name. He didn't seem offended, though, and just smiled back at her.

"I didn't expect to see you here tonight. I thought you hated these things," she said, gesturing to the crowd gathered on the dance floor and bar area.

"It's Colonial Day. I got the Presidential Invitation. Where else would I be?" he asked.

She hummed a response and rocked slightly in her chair in time with the music.

"And I can dance," he said.

She looked over at him as he wriggled his eyebrows at her and offered her his arm. She tossed her hair back and laughed with delight, and then let him lead her out to the dance floor.

They danced to a jaunty upbeat number. He was a good dancer and she laughed this fact to him between twirls.

"I've done a lot of boxing," he explained. "You pretty much use the same principles when you dance."

She giggled and smiled up at him again. She had missed him. The last couple of weeks had been different from when they had been apart while he was recovering on _Pegasus_. She had known that had been involuntary. Their argument after the opening at the museum and their subsequent hostilities and remoteness had been completely intended.

A new song started. A much slower song and she stood back awkwardly before he took the initiative and pulled her close.

He smelled nice.

She finally got to feel his uniform. Some sort of wool mixture, she supposed. It was a lot smoother than it looked.

She looked at his shoulder. It looked comfortable. It looked safe. She decided she didn't want to resist any longer, so she leaned her head down, placed her cheek on his strong body, and relaxed.


	10. Come Together

_Chapter Ten - Come Together _

The song was over and Laura Roslin was lifting her head and moving away. Bill Adama was disappointed. He would have been happy to stay that way for a lot longer. He took her arm and politely led her back to the stools where she had been sitting.

"Would you like a drink, Madam President?" he asked.

She looked around her. "I was thinking about leaving actually."

He checked his watch. "It's still early. One drink," he said, hoping she would agree.

She looked around again, then up at him. "Okay," she said slowly. "An ambrosia, please."

He nodded and walked towards the bar, feeling suddenly light-hearted.

0.0.0.

Kara Thrace was heading from the bar when she saw the Old Man placing a couple of glasses on a table. She rushed over to congratulate him on his promotion.

"Hey, I hear it's Admiral Old Man now!" she saucily greeted him.

"Starbuck!" he cried as he stood up to give her a quick hug. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Yeah, I heard they had an open bar." She held up her arms to show that she held a full glass in each hand. "Hey! You got a date! Go Admiral!"

She turned towards the older woman with a large grin plastered on her face. Then, she slammed her drinks down on their table, wiped her hands down the front of her clothes to remove the excess moisture caused by holding the wet glasses, and shoved one hand out towards the woman.

"Um, Starbuck," the Old Man started but she just waved her hand in his direction. She was much more interested in checking out his date. She was a good looking chick. Classy too. The woman was giggling and gingerly offering her a hand which Kara pumped with vigour.

"Kara," the Old Man snapped, his voice so stern, she stopped checking out his date and look over at him. He didn't usually use that tone towards her in social situations.

"That's okay, Bill," the woman said.

She swung back and drunkenly peered at the woman again. There was something familiar about that voice. That's when it dawned on her.

"Oh, frak me," she said, making it worse, she guessed, by swearing. "Madam Pres?"

"Yeah, Starbuck," the Old Man confirmed her worse suspicion. "Actually, I think the correct title would be Madam President."

She gulped. "Well," she stuttered, picking up her drinks and backing away. "I guess I'll leave you both to it." Getting as far away from here as possible would be a really good idea. She nodded in both of their general directions. "I'll see you next week, then," she said before she bolted towards the far end of the room.

0.0.0

Bill Adama watched as Laura Roslin laughed some more from her encounter with Kara. He thought she looked so lovely when she laughed.

"Sorry about that," he said, feeling he should apologise for his surrogate daughter's behaviour.

"That's okay. She was..." She tilted her head in a cute way as she searched to find the right word. "Refreshing," she finally settled on.

He smiled at her, pleased that she had called him Bill twice now, and also pleased at how natural and pleasant it sounded.

"Who was she?"

"Captain Kara Thrace. She's a Viper pilot. Best damn Viper pilot I've ever seen actually," he admitted. "Starbuck is her call sign. She was on _Galactica_ with me. Now she's the CAG on _Columbia_."

Laura giggled again. "Okay, you're going to have to tell me what a CAG is."

He chuckled. "Commander, Air Group. Basically she's the most senior pilot aboard the Battlestar. Responsible for all the Air Wing personnel and operations."

"I see." She smiled across at him. "That explains why I'll see her next week."

He only then remembered what Kara had said as she left. "Why will you see Starbuck next week?" he asked.

"Oh, I thought Tory had told you," she said, looking up at him with surprise. "I'm going to see the other Sharon next week. I was hoping you would come with me, but if you don't feel like you're ready to face her, I understand."

She was amazing, he thought, not for the first time of course. The other Sharon had actually been shooting at her, not him. She was brave enough to face the Cylon, and yet was worried about his feelings and reaction.

"If you want me there, I'll be there." He confirmed his loyalty towards her once again.

She rewarded him with a dazzling smile. "Then it's a date," she quipped. Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh," she said, somewhat awkwardly. "I didn't mean, I mean," she stuttered. "That will be good, Admiral."

Still no date. And they were back to Admiral, he registered, before he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Dad, Madam President."

"Major Adama," Laura greeted Lee. She appeared, seemingly to him, a little relieved to take the attention away from the turn their conversation had taken. "How nice to see you. Won't you sit down and join us?"

Lee pulled up a stool and perched uncomfortably on it.

"I just wanted to say congratulations on your promotion, sir."

Great, he thought, she was back to calling him Admiral, and Lee was back to calling him sir.

"Thank you, son. Did you see Starbuck?"

"No." Lee looked somewhat uncomfortable at the question which puzzled Bill slightly. "I'll see her tomorrow though. The XO from _Pegasus_, Colonel Belzen, has returned from family leave and they are sending me over to _Columbia_ to fill in for their XO while she goes on leave." Lee grunted slightly. "I seem to be the new stand-in XO for the Fleet."

"Obviously the Admiralty trusts you," Laura told him with a smile.

"Maybe," Lee said. "Having Starbuck as CAG is going to be a real pain in the ass." Lee quickly looked up at the president when he realised he'd sworn, but she just waved her hand at him.

"I'm sure you to will sort each other out eventually," Bill commented.

"Mmm," Lee murmured. "Anyway, I hate to be rude, but I need to get back to _Pegasus_ and sort myself out before my transfer."

Lee stood and saluted his father, politely nodded his head at Laura, and left. Bill watched him walk away. He understood Lee in so many ways, and yet in others his son was a complete mystery.

"He reminds me of you," she effectively broke his reverie by saying.

"Really?" He swung his head towards her and raised his eyebrows. "He's so serious. Always does the right thing"

She giggled. "No wonder he's worried about working with your Starbuck. He knows her?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Starbuck was engaged to my other son, Zak," he admitted.

"Oh," she said, flashing him a sympathetic smile. His file obviously contained the details of his loss. He looked down and swirled the brown liquid around in his glass.

"I was just wondering something." She paused, tilting her head and smiling. He looked over at her questioningly. "Kara is Starbuck. Lee is Apollo. You were a Viper pilot. What was your callsign?"

He certainly hadn't been expecting that question. He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. "Um, Husker," he finally admitted.

"Husker?" She flashed him a baffled look. "What's a Husker?" she asked.

He chuckled. "It came about because of my voice."

"Oh," she said, realisation dawning on her face. "It suits you," she said quietly.

0.0.0

Husker for his husky voice, she thought. Whomever had come up with that name was a genius. If she was true to herself she would admit she found Bill Adama's husky voice to be the most attractive thing about him. She squirmed in her seat, disconcerted that once again she was going to have dreams about him and that voice tonight.

"I probably should be going," she said. She should get out of here before she embarrassed herself anymore. She really shouldn't drink, she realised. One ambrosia and she was ready to flirt with, and thinking inappropriate thoughts about, Husker.

"Um, thank you," she stammered out, as she stood up to go.

"What for?" he asked in a puzzled voice as he also rose from his chair.

"Well, no one else had the confidence to ask the President for a dance, or, come to think about it, even approach me for a chat." She flashed him a grateful smile. "I enjoyed your company," she shyly admitted.

"My pleasure, Madam President."

She turned, signalled her bodyguards that she was ready to go and, with one last longing look at the Admiral, left.

The entire trip home in the car she tried not to think of him saying 'my pleasure, madam president' in an entirely different setting.

0.0.0

Admiral Adama was leading her through the maze like walkways of _Columbia_ towards the brig with ease. He had once been the Executive Officer of this Battlestar he had explained to her. His son, the current XO, and Captain Thrace walked a few paces behind them.

"Here we are," he said.

Marines were posted outside a row of five cells. The inside of the cells were lined with squares of metal mesh, but the outside walls were some sort of hardened clear plastic, so you could easily see the prisoners.

She could see the 'Sharon' Cylon model in the far left cell. A man wearing a Colonial Fleet uniform was sitting in the middle cell. The Cylon's boyfriend, she presumed. She was giving the man in the far right cell a cursory glance when recognition of his face made her gasp and clutch at the Admiral's arm.

"That man," she stammered. She swung around to the Major. "Who is he?" she asked, still gripping the Admiral's arm with excessive force.

Major Adama removed a clipboard from a hook on the wall and turned a couple of pages before answering her. "His name is Leoben Conoy. An arms dealer we picked up on Ragnar Station."

"Ragnar Station?" she questioned.

"It's an ammunition reserve I believe, Madam President," the Admiral answered. "Quite isolated and very seldom used."

"_Columbia_ was visiting there on a training mission," Captain Thrace explained.

"Apparently," Major Adama went on, "they found this man stealing weapons there. He's being transferred to Caprica City to be charged next week."

"No," she snapped. "Leave him here."

The Admiral looked down at her with a puzzled expression on her face.

His name was Leoben Conoy, Major Adama had said. Leoben Conoy, the man who had put his hand over her mouth and whispered into her ear before flying through the air backwards in dream number seven.


	11. Kiss, Kiss, Kiss

_Chapter 11 - Kiss Kiss Kiss _

**Yes, there really is a John Lennon song with that title. :)**

Laura Roslin was still gripping the Admiral's arm when Leoben Conoy turned his body and stared straight over to where they stood.

"Can they see us?" she whispered.

"No," the Admiral answered, looking down at her with concern. "The glass is one way. They also can't hear us at all."

"Admiral, is there someone on board who can interrogate Mr Conoy?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows slightly at the request. He glanced over at Lee and Kara. "The interrogators who questioned Helo and the Sharon have returned to Caprica City but Starbuck, you could probably handle it," he half asked and half stated.

"Yes, sir," Starbuck confirmed. "Um, Madam President, what information do you think we can garner from the prisoner?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Maybe you could start by asking him who he works for, who he was selling to, and go from there."

She noticed the look that passed between Starbuck and the Admiral. Starbuck then looked back towards the prisoner. "He doesn't look too good," Starbuck noted. "Is he sick?" She directed her question to Major Adama.

The Major consulted the notes on the clipboard again. "Doesn't seem to be anything here about it. The doctor hasn't seen him."

Laura looked over at Conoy and noticed that Starbuck was correct. The man was sweating profusely and his skin seemed pale.

"Well, question him first," she said. "Maybe you can promise him a visit from a doctor if he tells us any information we can find useful."

"Yes, sir."

0.0.0

"What do you think?" Laura Roslin asked Bill as they entered her guest quarters later that afternoon.

He sighed and pinched the end of his nose where his glasses rubbed. "I don't know. I'd like to believe her, but..."

"Yeah." Laura flopped down in the room's couch. "Unfortunately, I think she'd say anything to save her child."

"Mmm," he agreed. "Care to fill me in about the Conoy thing?" He lifted his uniform sleeve up his arm a little way to inspect the red marks she had left from her nails.

She sighed and turned towards him, noticing the marks before he could pull the sleeve down to hide them again.

"Oh my Gods, Bill!" She gave him a stricken look. She moved over and pulled up the sleeve again. "Did I do that?"

"It's okay. I'm sure I've had worse," he said, trying to make light of the situation.

She rubbed her hands over his skin.

He wanted her to stop so he could regain control of his senses...

He didn't want her to stop as it felt better than he could ever have imagined...

Her hands felt incredibly smooth as they ran over his rough skin. He also liked the way their paleness contrasted so strongly with his olive colouring.

They were such opposites. She was so feminine, full of soft curves. The only soft thing on his body was the ever-growing paunch of his stomach. However, one part of him was definitely not soft at this moment. The fact she could make him as hard as he was with just a touch on his arm appalled him somewhat.

But she continued to stroke his arm...

"Laura," he groaned.

He would have never have dreamed the first time he would use her name it would be as an endearment.

She looked up at him and bit at her bottom lip. They gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours, with her all the time continuing to stroke at his arm.

Just when he was losing all sense of reality from drowning in her green orbs she closed her eyes, and they, in unison, swayed forward, allowing their lips to touch for the briefest of kisses - merely pressing their lips together in an almost chaste way. They broke apart at the exact same time and gazed into each other's eyes once again.

He desperately wanted to kiss her again - this time deeply. "Laura..." He needed to seek her permission to take things further.

She leaned towards him and pressed her lips onto his again. He groaned into her mouth at the pleasure of her consent. Their lips parted and his tongue explored the warm feel of her mouth and teeth. Then simultaneously their tongues swirled together, flicking and caressing in a sensual dance. All too soon they parted and he stood panting, his eyes roaming hungrily over her flushed features.

"Bill?" she almost squeaked his name.

He couldn't help himself. He needed to feel the fascinating warmth of her mouth one more time. He boldly reached out and grabbed a handful of her thick silky hair and bent her head back so that he could fully indulge in her taste again.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin was in a pleasurable daze. Admiral William Adama's hand was kneading her scalp through the thickness of her hair while his lips were exploring the hollows of her neck. She knew her skin was flushed, but it was also overcome by satisfying tingling sensation.

She hummed quietly and pushed her body closer to his in an attempt to experience the feel of his hardness against her body.

She hadn't been with a man since she had broken up with Richard. She hadn't needed to be with a man since she had broken up with Richard. She hadn't wanted to be with a man since she had broken up with Richard. So the extreme need and want that the Admiral was now evoking from her was as shocking as it was welcome.

He was kissing his way back up towards her face now and she moved her head slightly so that they could capture each other's mouths once again. He kissed her passionately and she returned the kiss with equal fervour.

Then, they had a bucket of water thrown over them, figuratively speaking, when someone knocked on the hatch. They jumped apart, staring at each other almost in shock, breathing heavily. He walked over to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face before moving to the hatch to admit the unwanted intruder.

She had swung away to face the far wall of the room, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Commander Britton, Major Adama and Captain Thrace are here to see you Madam President with the latest report from the Conoy prisoner," the Admiral was telling her. She wondered how he could speak so normally.

She turned back to the Commander and his officers, hoping her face was starting to return to its usual colour and that they couldn't see the glow she was sure the Admiral had put there just a few minutes ago.

"What did you find out, Captain?" she asked, in what to her ears anyway, sounded an unsteady voice.

"Excuse my candour, ma'am, but he pretty much fed me a bucket load of religious crap," Captain Thrace answered. "He claims his sickness is due to allergies. Also said a lot about how it didn't matter that he was sick anyway as he didn't need his body because he was going to download into a stream and his soul would enter a new body or something or other."

"Download?" she asked. "That's a strange term."

"Yeah, said all this had happened before and it would happen again. Then, rambled on about me being the chosen one."

Laura looked over at the young girl and realised that she was a lot more shaken by her encounter with Leoben Conoy than she was letting on. She knew how she felt. She was shaken just by him in her visions, let alone in the flesh.

"Here's the full transcripts of the interview, ma'am." Commander Britton said as he handed her several sheets of paper. "And the full transcripts of the Cylon and Lieutenant Agathon's interviews as you requested this afternoon."

"Thank you, Commander." She stood and tugged down the hem of her jacket. "I want to talk to Mr Conoy," she told the group.

"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, Madam President," the Admiral said. She knew he would be against the idea. His total protective nature where she was concerned had become obvious to her.

"I know." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "But I want to see him, nevertheless," she insisted. "Can you please arrange for two Marines to escort me in a half an hour to the brig? That will give me enough time to read these transcripts. Thank you," she said as a dismissal of the officers.

0.0.0

Leoben Conoy was still sweating when she entered his cell. She tried to ignore the slight bruising she could see around the side of his face. Desperate times called for desperate measures, she tried to convince herself.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked in a voice that she hoped didn't reveal how rattled she was.

"Yes, and I know what you want," he said to her in a saccharine voice. "I know you're looking for Earth. You're going to find Kobol soon."

"What?"

"All of this has happened before and it will happen again, Laura," he said, obviously trying to disconcert her with the use of her first name.

"How do you know about Kobol?" she asked.

"It's all part of our plan, Laura."

"Whose plan?"

"The Cylons. We plan on taking our rightful place as God's children."

She stared at him in shock. She had been having visions about a Cylon?

His leaned over towards her ear, his stance mirroring the one in her visions. The Marines in the room cocked their guns but she held her hand up to stand them down.

"Adama is a Cylon," he whispered in her ear.


	12. Mind Games

_Chapter 12 - Mind Games_

"I don't know, Admiral," Starbuck said. "This seems a bit ridiculous. Like finding a needle in a haystack."

Lee walked over to the tactical station table and placed a new star chart on top of the five others they already had piled there. "Look at this one, it's the most up to date one of the Prolmar Sector."

As Starbuck and Lee started studying the new chart, he glanced up at DRADIS. An old habit, he realised. It felt good to be in the CIC of a Battlestar, even if it wasn't permanent.

He had agreed to let Commander Britton get a little downtime and he was enjoying every minute of his temporary CO status. He just wished he was on _Galactica_. Then it would be perfect. However, he had good memories from _Columbia,_ unlike _Valkyrie_. That command he could have done without.

"Sir, the President is waiting for you up in the Core," the Communications Officer said, gesturing towards the raised galley area of the CIC. He turned and looked up. Laura Roslin gave him what he would describe as a forced smile and a weak wave. He looked away and down at the floor. He had to try and keep a clear head with her. Regardless of his desires, she was still President and he was still an Admiral.

He made his way up the steps. "Clear the deck," he said, dismissing the crewmen of the Core so they could have some privacy.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she shot back. He frowned. She had a strange expression on her face. One he couldn't decipher. He hoped she wasn't regretting what happened in her quarters earlier.

"I know you just went to see Conoy, that's all. Did you find out anything useful?"

"Yes," she said. He waited patiently for her to elaborate but she just kept staring at him, making him uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

"Bill, if you're a Cylon, I'd like to know." Her statment came out of left field, evoking memories of a ridiculous lie detector test he had once agreed to.

"If I'm a Cylon, you're really screwed," he joked.

She laughed but just as quickly her expression became once again solemn and remote.

"Seriously, I'd like to know."

He frowned. She was serious. "I'm not a Cylon, Laura." He used her first name as an affirmation this time, instead of an endearment.

"Conoy says he is a Cylon."

He wasn't surprised. He had suspected as much.

"You believe him?" he asked. She nodded. "And now you think I'm a Cylon. I don't see how the two correlate."

She giggled but her mirth never reached her eyes. She also never explained her supposition he was a Cylon either.

He decided to leave the subject for now. "We were just looking at some star charts. Trying to figure out where Kobol could be." He gestured towards where Lee and Kara stood.

She looked down over his shoulder. "You told them?" she asked.

"No." He frowned, wondering at her suddenly suspicious nature. "I just told them we were looking for Kobol. Not why. Starbuck mentioned that Conoy brought up Kobol, so they seemed to have accepted it without wanting to know any details." He looked directly into her beautiful green eyes. He was determined to win her trust back, although he wasn't sure how he had lost it.

She looked over his shoulder again, nodded and started down the steps back to the centre of CIC.

0.0.0

As Laura and Admiral Adama were nearing the bottom of the steps, a red light started flashing and a loud alarm began buzzing throughout the CIC. One of the crew shouted "DRADIS contact!"

Adama swung his head up to study one of the consoles. "Colonial?" he asked.

"No, I'm not picking up any Colonial recognition codes, sir." The crewman continued to study a panel near his station.

The Admiral turned to Major Adama. "Set condition one throughout the ship," he said.

Major Adama picked up a handset. "This is the XO, set condition one throughout the ship. I repeat set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill."

The crewman stuttered. "I... I think, I think it's Cylon sir." The man looked up at the Admiral in astonishment.

"Starbuck, where's the CAP?" the Admiral barked.

"On an intercept course now, sir," Starbuck replied.

"Sir, confirmation, the contact is a Cylon Heavy Raider."

Laura was standing close to the Admiral now, near the main console of the room. She could feel the tension emitting from his body.

"Cylons?" she asked in a hushed voice.

She felt him start. He had obviously been so focussed on the job at hand, he had forgotten she was even there. He flashed a reassuring look her way and briefly stroked the sleeve of her jacket.

"Starbuck?" he asked the young officer. She didn't know what the question was but obviously Starbuck did as the girl barked, "Two minutes, sir" back at him.

"We're picking up radio contact, sir."

"Put it on speaker."

The contact contained a considerable amount of static and they could only hear every few words. "This...Bulldog...hell out of here...injured...Bulldog."

"Are you sure that is coming from the Heavy Raider?" Bill asked.

"Yes, sir."

"One minute," Starbuck said.

The message continued. "Bulldog...help...injured."

"Thirty seconds," Starbuck continued with her countdown.

"Order the CAP to hold their fire," Adama surprised everyone in the CIC by saying. "Escort it into the landing bay. Starbuck, get down there. Full prisoner drill."

"Yes, sir," Starbuck said, running out of the CIC.

Bill turned to Major Adama. "Get the alert guard to the hangar deck."

"Admiral?" she asked. "What is it?"

He looked over at her. "I'm not sure. Could be a trick," he admitted. He swung round to Major Adama again. "You have the command. I'll be in the hangar deck." He swung back to her. "You should probably return to your quarters until I sort this out," he said.

She looked over at him and narrowed her eyes. Laura was impressed with the way he handled himself here in the CIC. She also admitted that she had found strength and reassurance in his gentle touch of her arm, but it still didn't negate her earlier suspicions. There was no way she was letting him 'sort this out' without her observing. "No, that's okay," she said. "I think I'll come with you."

He looked at her for a long time, apparently coming to the realisation that she wasn't going to be swayed, then took her arm and led the way out of the CIC.

0.0.0

"You should have seen him at this Daniel Novacek's debriefing, Billy. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it."

"Madam President, he stood in front of two bullets for you. The Cylon shot him, remember?" Billy pointed out the flaw in her reasoning.

"Yes, I know. And he survived. He got shot twice at point blank range and he lives to tell the tale? And he knew her. She wouldn't have come near me if he hadn't been there. The guards let her pass because she was coming to see him."

"Are you saying it could all have been part of their plan? A ruse?"

She sighed. "I hope not, but it could be. It could have been an elaborate set up. To get me to trust him implicitly."

It was Billy's turn to sigh. "Madam President, with all due respect, I cannot believe that we're actually entertaining the idea that Admiral Adama has been somehow replaced by a Cylon duplicate."

"Oh my Gods, Billy, I hope you're right."

The com unit in her guest quarters buzzed. "Laura Roslin." She paused while the Marine on the other side of the hatch spoke to her. "Yes, let him in, thank you."

She stood and smoothed down her clothes. "It's the Admiral."

She studied him as he walked in the room. She remembered the day she had met him at the Galactica's decommissioning. He had definitely aged since then. He was a lot trimmer then and his hair was now speckled with grey. Would one of these 'skin job' Cylons age, she mused.

She also realised that if he was a Cylon, they had chosen wisely. In her eyes, he was perfect. His reassuring voice, his expressive eyes, his infinite wisdom, his dry sense of humour, his impeccable manners and, in fact, his overall total demeanour were everything she desired in a man.

"Madam President," he addressed her respectfully. He then noticed that Billy was in the room and gave him an enquiring look. "Billy, when did you arrive?"

"About a half hour ago," Billy smoothing answered. "On _Colonial One_. Commander Britton was on duty when I arrived. You were with the doctor, I believe."

"Yes, that's what I've come to tell you." He addressed her again. "The doctor has confirmed that Bulldog's DNA matches his medical records. He also says he's physically well, so whatever virus the Cylons had contracted on the ship he was held on, it hasn't seemed to have affected him."

She nodded before he continued. "The doctor has also seen the Leoben Conoy Cylon."

"Yes?" she asked. He didn't seem to notice her sharp tone or, if he did, he didn't show it.

"The Cylon's illness is getting worse. He apparently has several lesions over his body now."

"Sounds like the same symptoms Lieutenant Novacek described," she said.

He sighed a quiet 'yes' and removed his glasses to rub at his nose, as was his habit, she now knew. She had always found it so endearing in the past. Why would a machine bother to program in a habit?

"The doctor wants to keep everyone who has visited the Cylon, or come into contact with anyone who has visited the Cylon, in quarantine." She opened her mouth but he absently waved a hand before she could speak. "I told him it was quite impossible, so he has agreed that if we at least stay on board for one more day, he should be sure by then if the virus is infectious to humans or not."

"Well, lucky I had already planned on staying an extra day," she said. He looked up at her, clearly surprised. "In fact, that's why I called Billy this morning. He has brought me some extra clothes and other essentials."

Billy rose from the couch and handed the Admiral a small overnight bag. "This is for you," he said. "It's some underwear, a toothbrush, shaving gear and such," Billy explained. The Admiral looked at the bag as if it was going to bite him. "Tory guessed your size and bought it for you."

The look on Bill's face at Billy's last comment was enough to make her forget everything. She forgot about her suspicions and Cylons and viruses and visions and just enjoyed his appalled facial expression. She placed her hand over her mouth, letting out a small snort as she tried to smother a giggle.

He tentatively plucked the bag from Billy hands. "Ms Foster bought me underwear?" he repeated slowly as a tinge of a flush marred his face.

At that comment, she couldn't control herself anymore. The giggles turned to laughter and she gave up trying to suppress it.

He looked over at her. His face was still a stony statue of dismay but she could perceive a slight twitching around his lips. "She guessed my size?"

She started again. Great whooping peals of laughter racked her body and tears were now running out of her eyes. She grabbed Bill's arm to steady herself.

"Well, I'm going to my quarters to settle in," Billy said, shaking his head at their immaturity as he headed towards the hatch.

"You'd better take a Marine with you, in case you get lost," she stopped laughing for long enough to teasingly say.

Billy looked back at her, where she was still clutching the Admiral's arm, and rolled his eyes before he left.

She looked up at the Admiral and a new wave of laughter hit her as she saw the mirth dancing in his eyes.

She tried to breathe through her mouth to calm down and when she finally thought she had herself under control, she looked back up to see Adama chuckling. She watched him, fascinated by the way it softened his face. She continued to gaze up at him with a huge grin plastered on her face. She couldn't remember being so happy in a long time.

"You should laugh more often," he said before dipping his head and placing his lips on hers.

**Author's note: I know it wasn't a heavy raider in the original story but I always had issues with that and changed it.**


	13. I Don't Want to be a Soldier

_Chapter 13 - I Don't Want To Be a Soldier _

The kiss was over too quickly. It had been just a peck really. Laura didn't want to think of how disappointed that made her feel.

"I'm not a Cylon, Laura," Bill announced.

"Why were you lying when we interviewed Lieutenant Novacek?" she demanded. "What are you hiding, Bill?"

"Why do you think I was lying or hiding anything?"

She looked at him with one raised eyebrow. Their faces were so close she could see every line on his weathered face. She had the urge to reach up and trace her fingers over them.

He kept the eye contact with her for a while before he faltered, sighed and looked away. He lowered himself into the couch. She stood over him for a while, just watching him, thinking about how much she wanted to believe in him. She didn't want her judgement about him to be so drastically incorrect.

"I can't really tell you. It's classified."

"Bill, I'm the President. I think I can be trusted with classified," she said sarcastically.

"Hmph," he grunted.

She sighed and sat down next to him. In any other circumstances she would have enjoyed just sitting on a couch with Bill Adama. For some reason she found being in his company restful.

"Admiral Corman ordered me to send Bulldog over the armistice line." He turned and looked over to her with regret and guilt in his eyes. "I could have provoked them into the current situation we have with these Cylons infiltrating human society. I could be the reason they tried to kill you, Laura."

"Corman?" She snorted. "I was never so happy the day that man retired," she admitted.

"Maybe I should retire," he said gruffly. "I made a bad call with Danny."

He has got to be kidding me, she thought. This man tried to shoulder everyone's responsibilities on his broad shoulders. He was trying to take the blame for every bad thing that happened in the world.

Somehow the thought of this man being a Cylon now seemed absurd. The Sharon and Leoben Cylons showed no remorse or guilt when she had talked to them. The Sharon who had shot at her hadn't either according to the reports she had read. This man, however, was wrapped up in a blanket of guilt. She wondered what had happened to him in his youth that made him take on culpability in such a manner.

She had found out since becoming the President that the smart choice was not always the right choice. Difficult decisions had to be made and sometimes people got hurt in the process. Lieutenant Novacek's internment had been unfortunate, but she was sure it also wasn't Bill's fault.

"Oh Bill, don't be naive." She hoped to get through to him with harsh reality.

"Naive?" he almost whispered.

"Did it ever occur to you that the Admiralty may have set you up to provoke a war they wanted?" Knowing what she knew about Admiral Corman this wouldn't be far off the mark. To call the man a smarmy war monger would have been an understatement. "We've done a thousand things, good and bad, every day since then." She bowed her head thinking about her sisters. If bad things only happened to bad people, they would be alive today. "I don't think one particular thing would have triggered the situation we are finding ourselves in with the Cylons. Besides, there has been more than one ship cross the armistice line. Taurons, who seem to think they are above the law, ignore the armistice line all the time. That bullshit story you fed me earlier about them drilling for tylium is not really that far removed from reality."

He started to chuckle.

She looked up at him. He had said she needed to laugh more. She could say the same about him. She liked his laugh but she certainly hadn't expected him to be laughing now though. Not when they were discussing something so serious. "What?" she asked, astonished at his change of mood.

"My family is from Tauron originally."

She smiled, for some reason not at all embarrassed at her blunder.

"That explains a lot," she joked.

"Yeah."

They sat on the couch for a while in companionable silence.

"Maybe," she said after a time, "if you're hell bent on serving some sort of penance, working with me will be it."

"Sorry?"

"I mean, looking for two mythical planets from a crazy woman's dreams, getting shot by a Cylon, being exposed to a potentially deadly disease from another Cylon. It hasn't been a walk in the park since you started working for me." She gave him a smile.

"You forgot being accused of being a Cylon," he added.

She snorted, glad that he was at least seeing the funny side to her suspicions, and also thankful for his forgiving nature.

He rose from the couch and straightened his tunic. She was pleased to see the loyal and proud soldier had returned. It was an integral part of him, she realised.

"I believe I have a few issues to attend to, Madam President."

"Yes, you do, sir."

She was still smiling when he left.

0.0.0

Danny 'Bulldog' Novacek hung up the comm unit in his quarters after inviting Bill to talk things over. Not that Danny planned on talking. He wanted revenge. He needed Bill Adama to feel some of his pain.

He looked down at the piece of pipe he had removed from the head's sink earlier. He imagined locking Bill Adama in a cell while he ran the pipe along the bars to taunt him.

Maybe killing Bill Adama wouldn't erase the last few years of his life, but it sure as hell would make him feel better.

When the Cylons had told him of Bill's betrayal he hadn't believed them. Not Bill Adama, he had said. He was an honourable man, he had insisted. They had allowed him to escape. Number Three, as she called herself, said he would soon see the truth for himself and know what had to be done.

She had been right. Adama, now Admiral Adama, had abandoned him. When Bill had debriefed the new President on Valkyrie's mission, things hadn't added up. He now knew the Cylons must have been correct. Bill Adama had shot him down and left him to die deliberately. He didn't know why, and he didn't care. All he knew was he wanted Bill Adama to feel some of the pain he had endured.

0.0.0

"Is the doctor okay?" Lee Adama asked.

"Yes," Starbuck replied. "He's got some minor cuts and bruises, that's all. One of the medics has a broken arm."

"So, he wasn't as sick as we first thought," Lee surmised.

"No," Starbuck confirmed. "Leoben destroyed all his blood samples before he escaped from sick bay, so we'll never know for sure though."

"We'd better go and let the Admiral and the President know that somehow we let a Cylon escape from sickbay and never had time to recapture him before he flushed himself out of an airlock."

"Lee," Kara said, stopping in the middle of the gangway. They had been walking towards the President's quarters.

"What?" Lee stopped as well to look at the woman who equally annoyed him and attracted him.

"If Leoben wasn't sick, then maybe the Cylons on Bulldog's basestar weren't sick," she suggested.

"Maybe not," he conceded.

"But Bulldog still escaped," she simply stated.

"Yeah," he said, in a voice not unlike his father's. "So... They wanted him to escape? Why?"

"I don't know, but maybe we'd better pay him a visit and find out."

0.0.0

Laura Roslin's heart skipped a beat as Admiral Adama walked into the Ward Room for their meeting. She had come close to losing him again. She shuddered to think what would have happened if his son and Captain Thrace hadn't gone to Lieutenant Novacek's quarters when they had.

She hoped Bill had paid all the penance he had to now. She didn't know if his body, as strong as it was, could take too many more beatings. She noticed the way he gingerly sat down into his seat.

With an apparent amazing forgiving nature, Bill had reconciled with the man who had beaten him, and had insisted he not be placed under arrest or thrown into the brig. Instead, he had spent the morning arranging for Lieutenant Novacek to be transferred to a psychiatric hospital on Picon for treatment.

"Madam President, I've assigned Captain Thrace to study the heavy raider's FTL drives," he said now.

"FTLs?" she asked, flabbergasted at how many acronyms the military had.

"Faster than light. Jump Drives. We are assuming that Cylon technology far outstrips ours, so if we can decipher their systems, we may be able to explore more star systems for undiscovered planets," he explained.

"May I make a suggestion, sir?" Captain Thrace interrupted.

Being the approachable superior that Laura knew he was, he nodded for the young girl to continue.

"I think we should get Chief Tyrol off _Odyssey_ and bring him over here to assist us."

"The first Sharon's boyfriend?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Captain Thrace continued. "It makes perfect sense. He's one of the most knowledgeable Chief Specialists I've ever worked with. He could probably build a Viper from scratch if we asked him to. He's also already privy to the fact that Cylons look like humans, so we don't have to worry about anyone else discovering that piece of classified information."

Bill nodded. "And if he's as innocent as he says he is in relation to the Sharon Cylon, he'll want to prove it by putting in extra effort for the fleet. Madam President?" he prompted for her opinion.

"I think it's a military decision," she replied. "I don't know Chief Tyrol personally or professionally so I think I'll have to trust you to do what you think will be best, Admiral."

She realised she did, once again, fully trust him. Whether or not that would prove to be her downfall, only time would tell.

"I'll think about it and get back to you," he told the young officer.

Next, he picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Commander Britton, who was sitting closest to him at the conference table. "I've had Danny sit with a young Petty Officer who has quite a bit of artistic talent," he said. "They've come up with this sketch of the Cylon who was holding him on the Basestar. It's a female model, early to mid thirties maybe, tall, blonde hair, blue eyes."

Laura Roslin watched as the Commander studied the drawing before passing it along to Billy. She thought about her visions. The prophecy from dream number seven had become fully realised last night when the Leoben Cylon had committed suicide. Major Adama had described what happened when one was airlocked and the similarity to the ending of her dream was uncanny.

Now, when the Admiral talked about a tall blonde Cylon, she immediately thought about dream numbers four and eleven. The ones with Doctor Baltar and a tall blonde woman.

Billy passed the drawing onto Captain Thrace. Laura was next. She already knew it would be the woman from her dreams. She already knew Doctor Baltar was somehow involved with the Cylons.

Captain Thrace held out the drawing for her to take. She slowly picked up her glasses and placed them on her face. She looked down at the drawing and gasped. It wasn't her, she thought in amazement. She studied the woman's features and could find no resemblance to the woman in her visions. She sighed and removed her glasses again in disgust. She wondered if she was letting her visions take over her life and erode her common sense.

She passed the drawing onto Major Adama.

"That documentary they did when I was on Atlantia, 'Stars of the Battlestars'," the Major blurted out.

"The one where the entire population of the Twelve Colonies nearly got to check out your package because you can't wrap a towel around you properly?" Captain Thrace asked sarcastically.

Lee Adama just ignored Starbuck, and pointed to the sketch. "She made it. Her name is D'Anna something. Um, Biers... Yes, Biers."

"Show me." Starbuck demanded the picture back. "I've seen that show a few times," she confessed. She studied the drawing once again. "Frak me," the young girl whispered in her usual brash manner. "Lee, I think you're right. It does look like her."

"She's a film maker?" Commander Britton asked.

"No, more like a tabloid reporter. I'm not sure how she got the job on _Atlantia_ but I remember it wasn't her usual thing," Major Adama said.

"Are you telling me that this Cylon was on our flagship?" Admiral Adama asked.

"Yes," the Major confirmed. "With cameras," he added in a hushed tone.

"Gods help us," Laura found herself whispering.


	14. Woman

_Chapter 14 - Woman _

"Doctor Baltar! How do you think Laura Roslin will take the news that you are the new Caprican delegate on the Quorum of Twelve?"

Gaius Baltar looked around to do a quick head count on the number of reporters outside his building. There were eight today, he noted. Good, he thought, last week there had only been six. His popularity was increasing, it seemed.

He smiled and pushed his glasses back up his nose in a manner he hoped portrayed his superior intellect.

"Laura Roslin has no say in who is nominated to the Quorum of Twelve, so her opinion, whether it is positive or negative, will be of little concern to me," he answered smoothly.

"Doctor Baltar, is it true you have lost the Government contract to upgrade the comp-mail systems?"

"I believe that is the case. Though I'm unsure whether any contractor has been engaged," he said, raising the pitch of his voice to emphasis his incredulity at this decision to the press. "The network we are currently using is now nearly two years old. The installation of the comp-mail program was initiated, as we all know, by Richard Adar whom, unlike his successor, was open to new and innovative ideas. The frequent glitches we are now having with the system will continue unless the upgrades are made," he warned.

"Doctor Baltar, will you use your new position on the Quorum to attempt to overturn the decision by the Roslin Government to remove your Command Navigation Program from the Defence Department's Systems?"

"Definitely, definitely." He nodded. "And I also believe that some of the other delegates will be in agreement with me." As he hadn't talked to or met any of the other delegates, this was a complete lie but he was sure some of them must agree with his ideals.

"Do you-" another reporter started but he held up his hand to stop the question.

"I really am a very busy man and I am very late for an appointment," he said. This wasn't completely a lie as he did have a lovely brunette from Canceron to visit. "I just want to conclude by saying that the general voting population should be warned, if Laura Roslin has her way, we will go back to using slates in the classroom. And maybe we should be thinking about that when we vote in a few months time. Thank you," he added with a smile before stepping into a long white limousine. He helped himself to a flute of champagne, leaned back and dreamed of his comments and photograph appearing on the front page of the Caprican Times.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin threw the Caprican Times in the bin. She really couldn't stomach her breakfast with Gaius Baltar staring out at her from the front page. She sipped at her coffee as someone knocked on her door.

"Yes!" It was probably Tory or Billy. No one else started around the office this early, she thought as she bit down on a piece of toast.

"Madam President," a familiar baritone voice said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

She looked up and quickly wiped at her mouth and chin in case she had any spread smudged there.

"Of course not, Admiral," she said. She glanced at the time. Seven o'clock. "You've got your promotion now, so you don't have to keep starting early," she said, remembering their conversation during his first week.

She saw his now familiar attempt to remain impassive to her teasing but, as always, his lips twitched.

"I'm leaving for _Columbia_ early this morning. I was just letting you know that we still haven't had any luck with locating D'Anna Biers," he added in a more sober tone.

"You've collected all the tape from the producers?"

"Yes, but we can't be sure what she took without their knowledge, unfortunately. We've sent her photograph and description, as well as Sharon's and Leoben Conoy's, out to all the Twelve Colonies' law enforcement agencies, so if there are any other copies in the general population, at least we may have some chance of finding them."

"Thank you, Admiral," she said. "How long will you be on _Columbia_?" She was trying to talk in her 'presidential' voice so as not to alert him to the fact that, actually, Laura was wondering how long he would be gone for.

"Probably a week, I'd say. They believe they pretty much fully understand how the FTLs work on the Cylon Heavy Raider. Starbuck has performed several successful jump tests. So the next step is to try and transfer the technology over to a Colonial Raptor," he explained.

"That's good."

He turned to go, but then stopped and turned back towards her. He pulled out a tissue from the box sitting on her side table and moved around to her side of the desk. As she looked up at him enquiringly, he reached out and gently cupped her chin. She could feel the heat from his fingers burning her skin where they made contact. "Crumb," he murmured as he wiped her chin with the tissue before throwing it into the trashcan.

Then, without another word, he slowly left her office, leaving her standing in the middle of it, shaken by the simple gesture.

She felt her chin. Had she really had any crumbs on it or had he just made that up, she wondered. She also marvelled at how he had made wiping her chin into such an erotic activity.

0.0.0

The Raptor from the _Columbia_ smoothly landed at the Caprica Transfer Station and he politely thanked the pilot before exiting.

"Admiral Adama," a familiar voice called his name as he entered the Security Arrivals' Lounge.

"Ms Foster?" he politely addressed the President's Aide.

"The President sent me to collect you, sir."

He raised an eyebrow at the young girl. It was 2100 hours.

"Is there some kind of problem?"

"No, sir, not that I'm aware of. The President has asked you join her at the Presidential House so that she can be immediately debriefed of your mission on _Columbia_."

He followed Tory, confused as to why the debrief couldn't have occurred in the morning.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin was trying to act interested in Aaron Doral's prattle but she was sure she had never met a more annoying or tiresome man. She had hoped that after the Galactica's decommissioning she would never have to see him again but here he was, once again boring her with the glorious details of his evidently many and varied accomplishments.

She checked her watch. Tory had gone to collect the Admiral over an hour ago. Surely they would be arriving soon.

She looked into the crowd of people present and noticed a man in Colonial uniform heading her way. Unfortunately, he wasn't the one she was longing to see.

"Madam President," Admiral Nagala politely addressed her.

She introduced him to Mr Doral and then stood in between them as they started a conversation, one that she couldn't find the energy to follow. Instead she found herself nodding occasionally, hoping it was at the correct times, and constantly checking the entrance for Adama's arrival.

She knew she should be using the party, for the retirement of her Vice President and Treasurer, Brian Cable, to lobby for donations and votes, but her heart was not into playing politics tonight. She was doing her best to mingle and be polite but her usual savvy politician personality was missing.

She wondered if she was tiring at the machinations. Maybe as soon as the Cylon threat and her visions came to a conclusion, she would take a break. Maybe she could just live as Laura for a while.

She glanced over towards the door again, but she only saw the same guests she had previously.

She didn't know when she had come to crave Admiral Adama's company to such an extent, she just knew she did.

She saw Billy, talking to three businessmen who she knew were very influential and wealthy. Thank goodness he was on the ball tonight, she thought. What she would do without her forever-loyal Billy. She didn't know, or want to find out. Tory was efficient, that was true, but she certainly wasn't Billy. Billy had concocted the plan to collect the Admiral from the Transfer Station and bring him to the party tonight. She had been trying to invent a reason that Admiral Adama would have to attend the party, even though he had never met the guest of honour, and Billy had come up with the idea for the supposed debriefing. Billy's less than subtle attempts at matchmaking warmed her heart.

She looked up again and her breath caught in her throat.

"Are you okay?" Admiral Nagala asked. She looked up at him mutely. Had he heard the gasping sound she had made at the sight of Admiral Adama walking through the front door? "Are you unwell?" Nagala asked, looking down at her worriedly and giving her arm a friendly rub.

0.0.0

Bill walked into the Presidential House and saw her immediately. She was so lovely. Easily the most beautiful woman in the room, he thought. She was once again wearing red. This time, however, disappointingly, the dress was high cut. He started weaving through the crowd to reach her side.

He was almost half-way there when he saw her look up at the man next to her, and then the man reached out and intimately rubbed at her arm. Frakin' Nagala, he thought.

He realised he could never compete with the young blonde-haired whiz kid of the fleet. Nagala had been promoted to Admiral at the tender age of forty-five, jumping through the ranks due to his amiable personality as much as his sharp military mind. Now in his early fifties, Nagala still looked years younger thanks to his sun-streaked blonde hair and pumped-up tanned physique. What chance would an old man like him have with her when Nagala was the competition?

I'm a stupid frakin' old man, he thought again.

0.0.0

After their initial greetings, Laura excused herself to Nagala and Doral and led Admiral Adama off to her study on the pretence of business.

She turned as they entered the small room and quickly drank in the sight of him. He looked tired, she noted, and felt a flash of guilt for dragging him out when he could have gone home to rest after his Raptor flight.

She longed to reach up and smooth the lines of his face. Then, maybe run her fingers though his soft thick hair...

"The Cylon FTLs have been successfully transferred to three Raptors on board of _Columbia_," he said, in a completely formal manner.

"That's good," she said. She felt breathless. She was thinking about their previous kisses and how skilled he was at that particular act of intimacy...

"We've made several jumps and found several new moons and a couple of planets," he continued with his report.

"Anything habitable?" she asked as she stepped closer to him in an attempt to inhale some of his now familiar and distinctly male scent.

"No. One planet has large tylium reserves and could be useful in the future. I'm sending out three star chart cartographers to assist in recording our findings," he said, still in the same stiff voice.

"Good," she repeated absentmindedly, now concentrating on the crystal blueness of his eyes and wondering if he would see into her soul if they made love...

"Do you care?" he abruptly asked.

She stepped closer to him again, humming a negative response and, as she could no longer resist, she reached out to stroke up and down his arm.

"Neither do I," he murmured before his mouth claimed hers.

She whimpered and parted her lips to allow his tongue access to her mouth as her hands slid up to tangle in his thick hair. She pressed her body against his strong masculine one and immediately felt her nipples harden in response. One hand stroked up and down her back while the other rested on the curve of her buttocks.

They gasped for air at the same time. She moved her hands from his hair and now explored the texture of his uniform, sweeping her hands over his chest in a proprietary manner. She smiled up at him. "You're very good at that, Admiral," she teased.

One of his hands was now gently stroking her face. She tilted her head slightly so that he could cup her cheek in his palm. Then, he moved so the pad of his thumb brushed across her bottom lip which evoked a hum of pleasure from deep inside of her.

"So lovely," he whispered before replacing his thumb with his lips.

She tilted back her neck and for a long moment indulged in losing herself in Bill Adama.


	15. How Do You Sleep?

_Chapter 15 - How Do You Sleep? _

It wasn't Nagala's sun-streaked hair she was running her fingers through, he thought with amazement. It was his salt and pepper strands. She was letting him kiss her again. It felt good. He wanted to kiss her, touch her, taste her.

He started to run his mouth down her pale elegant neck. The dress, he noted, wasn't as prim as he had first imagined. The front of the dress had buttons running down its entire length. Apparently it was too tight as some of those buttons had now popped apart due to their contact with his uniform. He was delighted to see that two of the buttons that had opened were quite near the top of the dress giving him the opportunity to kiss the creamy swell of her breasts. An opportunity he decided not to pass on. He heard her distinctive hum in response.

He lifted his head and slid his hand through the material's gap, deftly pulling down the cup of her bra to run his thumb over the sensitive nub of her nipple in a movement that mirrored his earlier touch on her bottom lip. She groaned and he felt her fingers digging into his shoulders through the thick material of his jacket. He looked back up at her face. Her head was tilted back, still baring to him the delicate skin of her neck which he couldn't resist leaning in and suckling.

"Bill," she groaned.

"Mmm," he murmured.

"I don't, I mean," she stammered. "I can't, not here, but I want, um, I was, I mean."

He moved back and chuckled. "Laura, I hope your oratory skills improve before your next speech," he teased.

She giggled, then reached up and kissed him lightly again. "I don't seem to be thinking straight," she said.

He chuckled again and, just because he could, placed another kiss on her smiling lips. "I think it's catching," he told her.

She sighed. "I can't explain. I just, um, need to slow down. Maybe we should just enjoy this."

"I am," he assured her. He also found himself, unbelievably considering how hard he was in a certain sensitive area, adjusting her bra and buttoning up her dress. He wasn't sure when he had become so chivalrous but he knew this wasn't the place nor the time for them to take the next step in their relationship. When he made love to Laura Roslin, and in his mind now it was when and not if, he wanted to take his time and enjoy every last minute of it. He wasn't interested in some quick frak on the desk. He imagined she may have already got enough of that from that moron Adar and he wanted to make it as different from that as possible.

He had just finished doing up her top button when they heard a knock on the door. "Just in time," he joked.

"Come in," she called.

Billy opened the door and tentatively peeked around the corner, maybe checking they were both decent, he thought with a smile, before pushing the door fully open to enter.

"Madam President, Admiral," Billy said apologetically to them both before addressing Laura. "Mr Cable is getting ready to give a speech, so I thought you had perhaps better be there."

"Yes, of course, Billy. I won't be a moment." She moved over to her desk and opened the bottom drawer and removed what appeared to be a small bag. She unzipped it and fished around for a while before pulling out a tube of lipstick. She grinned over at him. "Not the same colour I started out with but I doubt anyone will notice." He watched fascinated as she parted her lips slightly and rolled the colour over them. He couldn't remember being as spellbound by a woman reapplying her lipstick in his presence. He had to steel himself from the temptation to kiss it off again.

She threw the bag back in the drawer and came back around to where he was standing.

"Do I still look thoroughly kissed?" she asked.

He reached out and smoothed down her hair. "I like the fact you look thoroughly kissed," he admitted.

She smiled and hummed. "Do you want to come out to the party?" she asked.

He crinkled up his face. It was now 2200 hours and he realised that he didn't really feel very sociable. Not for a crowd of people anyway.

"That's okay," she said before he could reply, obviously reading the distaste of the idea in his face. "You could stay here. There's a drinks' cart." She motioned to the corner of the room. "Oh, and I have something for you." She moved towards the end of a bookcase on the far wall and picked up a book from a box sitting near it. She came back and handed him the book.

He read the cover. "_Blood Runs at Midnight_," he quoted.

"Don't let the title fool you," she said. "It's a pretty good mystery. I think you'll like it. And it's not a loan, it's a gift. And maybe when I'm finished we could, um, talk more."

"Talk?" he asked.

She giggled.

He smiled back at her before leaning down and kissing her gently on the cheek. "I'll be here," he whispered.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin berated herself as she walked down the stairs towards the party.

She had gotten Bill Adama to her house on false pretenses before practically throwing herself at him, only to back off like some nervous virgin. Telling him she needed to slow down. He should think she was the biggest tease in the Twelve Colonies. Only it seemed he didn't. She could see the understanding in his eyes. He was a gentleman. He was going to be patient.

Gods, she thought, the man was making it very difficult for her to keep her usual emotional distance.

0.0.0

Bill Adama was sitting on the couch at the back of the Presidential House's second floor study, a drink in one hand and a book balanced on his lap. He had switched off the main overhead light in favour of the muted tones of a small lamp which sat on a side table. His glasses lay beside the lamp and he was now just leaning back with his eyes closed, relaxing, waiting for her return.

The door slowly opened and he peered over expecting to see Laura's tumble of red hair coming through the door. However, he was disappointed when he saw a man enter the room, and surprised when he noticed it wasn't Billy. The soldier in him went into alert mode immediately. From his position at the back of the room, he could make out a maroon suit he had seen earlier on the Public Relations officer who'd attended Galactica's decommissioning, Aaron Doral. What would Aaron Doral be doing in the President's private study?

Doral had walked fully into the centre of the room. The man only then noticed Bill sitting there and physically started.

"Admiral Adama," Doral jarringly greeted him.

"Mr Doral," he said smoothly. "Can I help you?"

"I was looking for the bathroom," Doral replied.

"I would assume there is a bathroom on the ground floor where the party is being held."

"Yes, of course there is," Doral said jerkily, his tone defensive. "However, it's very busy and I was hoping to find another one on this floor."

"Obviously, this isn't a bathroom," he ground out. "I'm sure the reason President Roslin has guards on the stairs is to ensure guests stay on the ground floor and not wander through the private areas of the Presidential House."

"And yet here you are, Admiral," Doral said sarcastically.

"Yes. I was invited here," Bill simply said. "However, I doubt you were." He stood up. "Maybe we should go and ask one of the guards to escort you back to a bathroom."

Aaron Doral arrogantly raised his head, turned and flounced out of the room. Bill quickly followed him closely down the stairs until they came across a guard.

For once, he was thankful he was wearing his uniform when the man saluted him respectfully. "Guard, will you be kind enough to escort Mr Doral here to the ground floor bathroom. Then, when Mr Doral is finished doing his business, will you please make sure he reaches his car and leaves the grounds."

Aaron Doral flashed him a sour look. "You can't throw me out. I'm employed by Brian Cable's office. I actually organised tonight's party." Doral reached into his pocket and flashed a lanyard with a photo ID on it at the guard. "My security clearance," he said. "I doubt the Admiral here has one," he continued in a sarcastic voice. "So I think it would be more prudent, guard, if you were to escort Admiral Adama here to his car instead."

The guard checked Doral's security credentials before looking from him to Doral and then back again.

As Bill had no paperwork with security clearance, he would need to rely on a confident glare. "Guard, make your choice."

The guard looked from him to Doral several times before finally speaking. "Mr Doral, can you please come with me, sir?"

Doral shot Bill one final unpleasant look as the guard escorted him away.

Bill was still standing on the stair landing, thinking about Doral, and how and why the man had gone into Laura's study, when the woman herself came up the steps escorted by Billy.

"Bill!" she said when she spotted him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He grunted and rubbed his eyes. "Come on, let's go and get a drink and I'll tell you about it." He looked over at Billy. "Billy you might want to come and hear about it too." So much for spending time alone with Laura for the night, he thought.

0.0.0

Bill sat on the couch, sipping a drink, as Laura paced up and down in the study, swaying occasionally. It was now very late and, as he knew she always started the day quite early, he realised she must be tired.

He stood up, put out a hand to cease her movement, reached up and removed her glasses, bending to place them on the desk before pulling her towards the couch. He was pleased when she let him guide her without protest. He pulled them down to recline on the couch together, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. She placed her hand gently on his chest, absentmindedly stroking occasionally.

The phone buzzed, and she jumped up to answer it immediately. "Yes. Yes. Seems the Admiral was right. Okay. Yes. No. Good idea. I will. Thank you. See you in the morning." She hung up with a sigh.

He was pleased when she immediately came back to the couch and resumed her previous position.

"That was Billy," she whispered. "Home Security has just finished sweeping the mansion."

"And?"

"They found a strange device in the kitchen area. Apparently it's not explosive. Could be a listening device but they aren't sure. They are taking it away and testing it now. There's been so many people in and out of there today, we can't pin it on Doral, but I've still approved for Doral to be picked up for questioning."

"They'd better check the Government Building too," he said.

"Yes, they're going there now." She sighed again.

He was now stroking her back and it wasn't long before her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing changed to a slow steady rhythm that confirmed to him that she had fallen asleep. He kissed the top of her head and closed his own eyes.


	16. Power to the People

_Chapter 16 - Power to the People_

"Front row seats!" Saul Tigh was amazed. "You must be giving it to Roslin good and proper."

"Saul," Bill said with a warning tone. "Actually she got them for Starbuck. Kara's got weekend shore leave from _Columbia_ where she's been working her tail off, and the president acquired us the tickets as a thank-you."

"Frak me, Bill," Saul complained. "You didn't tell me frakkin' Starbuck was joining us."

Bill chuckled. He didn't know why Starbuck and Saul couldn't see why the only reason they fought so much was because they were so alike. "I didn't want you to change your mind about coming," he explained. "Just try and act like an adult."

"Hmph. She's the one with the frakkin' attitude problem, not me."

"Whatever," Bill used a placating tone with his former XO. "Just play nice."

0.0.0

"You've got to be kidding me!" Kara Thrace jumped to her feet and yelled at the referee. "Are you blind?"

She sat back down as the buzzer went off for half time before reaching over and grabbing one of Tigh's french fries which he had so obviously offered to the Admiral and not her.

"Hey!" he yelled but she just ignored him and took another couple with a mumble of 'tight-fisted frakker' under her breath.

"I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?" she asked the Admiral. It was the least she could do considering he'd wrangled these tickets somehow out of the President's office. Front row tickets to the pyramid preliminary final were not easily come by. She could pick out five actors and six rock stars on the other side of the court alone.

"No, thanks," the Admiral yelled over the noise of the crowd. She never bothered asking the Colonel. He'd probably want a frakkin' ambrosia and she couldn't afford to pay for his expensive drinks.

She made her way through the crowd towards the bar.

"Kara!" a voice called from behind her. She turned to see Theo Gotham. Theo was a pyramid scout. He'd groomed her for a position on the Picon Panthers before her injury.

"Hey, Theo, how goes?"

"Good, good. Still in the service I see?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Hey, I've got to go to the rooms but here." He pulled out a business card and wrote something on the back. "Come to the rooms after and I'll buy you a drink and introduce you to the teams if you like. It's been too long."

"Yeah, thanks." She watched him leave, having no intention of going. Pyramid was now part of her past. She didn't really want to think about what could have been if it hadn't been for her knee.

The bar was crowded and by the time she got her drink and returned to her seat the second half was just beginning.

She sat and watched and cheered as Sam Anders for the Caprican Buccaneers scored. Maybe she should go to the rooms and meet the team after all...

0.0.0

Saul Tigh and Bill Adama were making their way out of the pyramid stadium after the game when Saul felt Bill stop and tense beside him.

"Bill?"

Bill started walking in the direction opposite to where their car was parked.

"Bill?" he asked again but Bill just kept walking purposefully to the far side of the stadium.

"Bill!" he yelled now, but followed his friend.

"Doral!" Bill yelled straight afterwards. A man dressed in a bright blue suit turned at the sound of Bill's voice. The man sneered at Bill and opened up the lapels of his suit coat.

"Bill!" Saul yelled again as he realised what the man was hiding in the coat.

He sprung across and threw his friend to the ground just as he heard the roar of the bomb exploding.

0.0.0

"Are you okay?" Laura Roslin asked him down the line.

"Yeah," Bill Adama replied, looking at the bandage he had been holding to his forehead to check how much blood he was still leaking. "Just a couple of cuts and bruises."

"Are you sure it was Doral?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I got a good look at him when he turned around."

"So we've found our fourth Cylon."

"So it would seem, Madam President."

"I think I'll have to hold a press conference to tell the general public about them."

"You sure that's a wise idea?" he asked.

"No," she admitted in her usual candour, "but if security at the game today had a photo of what Doral looked like, there's a chance three people would now be alive instead of at the Caprican morgue. I need to do everything in my power to protect my people."

"Okay, I'll abide by your decision, Madam President," he said.

"Thank you, Admiral. And, um, if you need some time off, that's fine. Just come back to the office when you're ready."

"I'll see you Monday morning," he assured her.

0.0.0

"I've assigned Major Adama and Captain Thrace to your security detail on _Cloud Nine_, Madam President," Admiral Nagala announced during the weekly Admiralty meeting.

"I thought they were busy on _Columbia_," she said.

"Yes," Admiral Adama agreed, "but we think that, after the recent attacks by the Sharon and Doral Cylons, we need to hand pick people to protect you at the Quorum meeting. The Chief Specialists and cartographers can work with some other Raptor pilots while Apollo and Starbuck are away. I think it's vital we attend to your needs first."

She looked over at him trying to ascertain if he had made a deliberate double entendre but his clear blue eyes just stared impassively back at her. She wriggled in her seat, trying to concentrate on the problems at hand and not the thought of William Adama attending to her needs.

"Maybe we should change the venue of the meeting." Tory suggested.

"No," Bill disagreed. "Having the meeting on _Cloud Nine_ at least gives us some control over who is on board the pleasure ship."

She looked over at him again. Had he just emphasised the word pleasure? She shook her head to clear out her ridiculous thoughts. Admiral Adama wasn't the kind of man to joke around in meetings. Then again, she had thought she wasn't the type to indulge in such decadent thoughts during them either.

"We'll send the security team to _Cloud Nine_ a few days before to get a layout of the ship," Bill continued.

"Okay, yes, fine," she agreed. "Have we got any information from the Doral in custody?"

"No, Ma'am," Admiral Cain answered. "He is still denying he's a Cylon actually, even though we told him we've had an encounter with a copy."

"Has he had any visitors? Any family or friends?" she asked.

"None. He has had a visit from a priest. A Father Cavil."

"Okay. Let me know if you receive any further information," she said before moving on to the next item on the agenda.

0.0.0

Playa Palacias was checking her makeup when he walked into the unisex bathroom. She lingered in front of the mirror while he relieved himself. As he came out of the toilet she watched, completely overtly, whilst he washed his hands. She knew he knew she was watching, but he kept his manner businesslike until after he pulled a paper towel from the rack and moved around to her side of the basins. He stood behind her, watching her in the mirror. She felt the wetness pour out from her pussy into her panties. She had a thing for rich and powerful men and lately, he certainly was falling into both those categories.

"I hear you've been nominated for Vice President," she said.

"Yes," he answered, in that smooth upper-class accent that made her knees knock. "Myself and Mr Zarek, I believe."

"Well, Gaius," she boldly used his first name. "My money would be on you."

He smiled in the mirror at her before he grabbed her hand, led her into one of the bathroom's stalls, and frakked her hard against its door.

0.0.0

"You have got to be frakkin' kidding me," the President said, shocking Billy. He didn't think she had ever sworn in front of him. In fact, he knew she didn't swear much at all, so for her to be so crude, in both his and Tory's presence, he knew that there was a serious issue.

He looked up at her questioningly.

"Have you read the Quorum's nominations for Vice President?" she asked.

"Um, no," he answered. The nominations had been held before the official Quorum meeting started in the morning. The Quorum of Twelve voted for their preferred candidate with the president only needing to add her vote if there was a deadlock.

"Gaius Baltar and Tom Zarek," she said.

Even he was shocked. It had to be said the Doctor was a genius but he had found in his dealings with him that the man was also cuckoo. The thought of working with him on a more regular basis if he was made Vice President made him cringe.

He had believed Tom Zarek to be a man of conscience, but Dee had recently been so passionate regarding her dislike for the ex-terrorist that he was now starting to question his previous viewpoint.

He was glad he didn't have to choose between the two men. He also couldn't imagine either of them supporting all of President Roslin's decisions without question as Brian Cable had. The political intellectual inside of him said that was a good thing, but the man who had come to love Laura Roslin as a friend as well as a Commander In Chief, said it would be a disaster for her and her administration.

0.0.0

"I love you, Kara," he said. He had from the moment he had laid eyes on her, he realised.

"I love you, too," she replied and his heart soared.

He felt like going out of the room they had just consummated their passion for each other in on _Cloud Nine_ and shouting to all and sundry that he loved Kara Thrace.

The telephone on the counter rang and she went to answer it. "Thrace," she announced into the hand piece. She listened for a while before telling the caller she'd be there as soon as possible.

She came back over to the bed and smacked him on the ass. "Get your fat lazy ass out of that rack, Adama. There was just a brawl at one of the bars and a man was caught with a ceramic handgun."

0.0.0

"His name was Valance. He's a professional assassin from Sagittaron," Bill reported.

"And someone killed him, you say?" Laura asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Got in through an air vent."

She sighed and her head fell to the desk as he had recently discovered was her habit. He had the urge to reach out and push his hands through the auburn tresses.

"You can't let a terrorist become the Vice President, Laura," he told her. He was, of course, letting his personal feelings about terrorists and about her rule his head, but he didn't care.

She grunted. "The alternative is the mad scientist."

"Yeah. Politics," he mused, "as exciting as war and definitely as dangerous."

She stood up and straightened her suit. "Though in war, you only get killed once. In politics it can happen over and over."

"You're still standing." Bill reached out, took her hand and kissed it gently.


	17. Love

_Chapter 17 - Love _

Laura Roslin smiled at Bill Adama and looked down where he was still holding her hand, their skin such contrasting colours. How such a tough military man could be so gentle, she didn't know.

"I have to go and meet with both the candidates."

"I'll come with you," he offered.

"No, no. I don't need you to be my personal goon squad," she said, smiling to take the sting out of her words. "You'll be at the party tonight?"

"If you want me to be there," he told her huskily.

"Well, you can dance." She giggled. "No one else ever seems to ask me."

"Hmph," he grunted. "What about Nagala?"

"Nagala?" she repeated, confused. She had never danced with Nagala.

"He used to be your regular date," he mumbled.

She snorted. "William Adama, are you jealous?" she asked incredulously.

He merely grunted again. She threw her head back and laughed heartily at his childishness. "You are!"

He looked over at her and started chuckling himself.

"That's so sweet." She quickly pecked a kiss on his cheek and left, before she lost her resolve and gave in to her desire to fully kiss him on his too-tempting mouth.

0.0.0

"Mr Zarek," she politely addressed the man who could become her Vice President.

"Ms Roslin," he said. "How can I help you?"

"I just wanted to meet with you before the vote."

"Sound me out? See how amenable I will be if I win the vote? Or would you like me to do a deal. Roll over and let Baltar win?" he asked sarcastically.

She snorted at his bluntness. "Something like that," she admitted. "Or maybe I'm just wondering if I should watch my back if you win the Vice Presidency. If some," she paused for dramatic effect, "unfortunate accident should happen to me, you will be my successor."

"I'm realistic," he said. "I don't have any illusions about becoming President and the Admiralty, when they questioned me about Mr Valance, made it quite clear that they'd like nothing better to put me in a cell if I try and take it off you."

She tried to hide her surprise. She hadn't known the Admiralty had spoken to Zarek. She wondered which Admirals had been present. It sounded suspiciously like Bill, rushing to protect her again. Instead of being angry at his interference, she felt honoured and gratified that he chose to defend her in such a manner. "They're trying to do you a favour," she said. "You and I both know how impossible it would be to govern without the backing of the military."

"I agree," he conceded.

"So, Tom Zarek wants something," she guessed. "I just want you to put your cards on the table and let me see if it's a price I'm willing to pay."

"I want to be included," he said sincerely. "I don't want to be on the outside looking in anymore."

"And that's all?" she asked.

"Sagittarons need more representation. I plan on being the man to give it to them. That is the extent of my personal agenda."

She didn't believe him for a minute, but she just serenely smiled and stood to indicate that their meeting had come to a conclusion.

"Good luck with the vote, Mr Zarek," she said, briefly shaking his hand before leaving.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin stared at the man whom had just spent the last twenty minutes trying to convince her of his worthiness to become Vice President. She could only think of one thing: her visions. Somehow, she knew the visions indicated that this man was involved with the Cylons. She couldn't prove it, of course, but it didn't make them any less real in her mind.

"About two years ago, I saw you on Caprica with a blonde woman. Who was she?" she blurted out.

He frowned at her. "Excuse me?"

"Were you with a tall blonde woman in the Riverwalk section on Caprica about two years ago?"

"I'm afraid my affairs on Caprica, and whom I choose to consort with, are none of your business," he answered haughtily. "I would hardly remember every woman I came into contact with two years ago," he added.

She conceded this point but suddenly he became nervous and jumpy as if she had hit a raw nerve with the remarks about the woman.

"Now, unless you have something to add to this discussion other than questions about my personal life..." He stood. "I think I'll see you at the vote."

His voice had become a pitch higher in his agitation. It could be that he was genuinely angry at her and her questions, or it could be that he had something to hide. She needed to find out who the tall blonde woman was. She wondered if the woman and Baltar were both Cylons. The Leoben Cylon had appeared in her visions, after all.

"That's-" she started before pausing. She wondered if she should air her suspicions to him and see what he had to say in his defence. In the end, though, she decided to keep them to herself for now. "That's all," she finally just said.

0.0.0

The Grand Ballroom on _Cloud Nine_ was decorated with balloons, streamers and flags from the Twelve Colonies when Bill Adama walked in. He saw Lee, Kara, Billy and Dee talking in one corner. He thought he should go and ensure either Lee or Kara was keeping sober in case they were needed for the job they were originally sent to_ Cloud Nine_ to do. He decided, however, Billy would be keeping an eye on them. Billy had a wise head on his shoulders.

He walked over to the bar and ordered a drink while checking the time. Laura was due to arrive soon. He decided to ask the bartender if he knew who had won the vote for the Vice Presidency. Bartenders had a knack of knowing all the gossip.

"Deadlocked," the man answered. "It's all up to the President now."

Just after the man had answered a swell of people entered the ballroom. The Quorum and other representatives of the Twelve Colonies, reporters, and then the President herself walked in and stood up on the stage.

Laura ignored the microphone someone offered her. Obviously she wasn't going to give a long speech. "Everyone!" she called out. "I give you your new Vice President," she paused and looked over to the edge of the stage, "Tom Zarek!"

The crowd cheered as Zarek made his way up onto the stage, kissed Laura on each cheek, and waved to the crowd.

He looked away and took a swig of his drink before moving over to one of the tables set up on the edge of the dance floor. Zarek wouldn't have been his choice, he thought. Then again, Doctor Baltar didn't inspire him either.

"Hello," he heard her familiar voice in his ear.

He turned and couldn't smother the smile that sprung to his face. "Hey," he said huskily. He motioned to where Zarek was shaking hands in the crowd. "Strange choice," he said.

"Mmm. I-" she started before another woman's voice cut in.

"Laura!" the other woman said.

"Marcie!" Laura moved to kiss the woman on both cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming."

"You know I just can't stay away from these political shindigs," the woman laughingly answered. She then pointedly looked over at him before looking back at Laura with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Admiral Adama," Laura told the woman. "Admiral, this is Marcie Shillings, an old friend of mine."

"Not so much with the old!" Marcie offered her hand for a shake. "An admiral?" she asked. "As in an Admiral in the Colonial Fleet?"

"Yes," he said. He looked down and realised he'd thankfully finished his drink. "Would you ladies like a drink?" he asked politely.

"Yes. Two ambrosias please," Marcie said, answering for them both.

He looked over at Laura for confirmation. She gave a carefree laugh that she so rarely expressed in public. "That's fine," she said. "Thanks Bill."

0.0.0

"My goodness, look at his ass in that uniform!" Marcie giggled as Bill walked off towards the bar.

Laura smothered her own giggles, but her eyes were drawn to Bill's backside, nevertheless. It was rather nice, she thought.

"So," Marcie demanded. "What's the story with you two?"

Laura tried her best to look prim as she answered. "No story."

"Laura Roslin," Marcie admonished, "I was your friend before you were President, or Secretary of Education for that matter, so I can tell when you are attracted to a man."

She made some sort of disgusted snorting noise.

"Also," Marcie continued, "the Admiral was practically devouring you with his eyes when I arrived, so spill."

"He was not," she denied quickly. Then, she couldn't resist asking, "Was he?"

They were both still giggling like schoolgirls when Bill came back to the table with their drinks.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin sat sipping on her ambrosia and thinking about her relationship with Bill Adama. She realised that she now considered Bill Adama to be her friend. Probably her best friend at the moment, she conceded. She realised she could probably tell him anything and he would just listen and not judge her. Tonight had proved that. He didn't agree with her choice of Vice President, but he didn't condemn her for her decision either. She liked the way he let her know his opinions and wasn't afraid to argue with her. He accepted her, and all her traits, good or bad.

She sat watching him charm her old friend, thinking about the excuses she had been making for not letting him get any closer.

Her last few romances had not turned out well. Her affair with Richard had left a bad taste in her mouth. What had started out as convenience and mutual respect had turned out to be about domination and control. Richard had wanted to dominate her and when she had resisted, he had hit out at her in both her professional and personal life.

Prior to Richard there had been a smattering of dates with various men. None of them usually stayed in her life for very long. The sex itself had been okay but there had always been something missing. She had no connection with any of her previous lovers. It had just been sex, pure and simple.

So now, she was contemplating sex with someone whom with it wouldn't be just sex. She couldn't just throw Bill Adama out and never see him again. There was also the responsibility of her position. If the media found out she was in bed, literally, with the military they would have a field day.

She knew, however, that wasn't the main reason why she had held back at Brian Cable's retirement party. Nothing would be casual with Bill Adama and she knew instinctively, if she gave him her body, he would also capture her soul and want her heart.

She looked over to see him returning her scrutiny and she couldn't help but give him a warm smile.

Maybe she deserved a moment of happiness and at that moment, she made her decision.

"Bill, will you escort me back to my room?" she asked.

"Of course, Madam President," he replied.

They walked out of the ballroom, two guards walking closely behind. She stopped and turned to the guards. "You're dismissed for the evening, gentlemen. Admiral Adama will ensure my safety."

The men looked from one to the other in confusion before looking back at her. She held their gaze, hoping they'd see the steely determination in her eyes. Eventually, they saluted weakly and left.

Bill chuckled as they started walking again.

"What's so funny?" she demanded with a smile.

"Those young boys. They had no chance in defying Laura Roslin."

She snorted. "What about an old man?" she asked teasingly. "He's stood up to Laura Roslin on more than one occasion."

"Lot of good it's got him. He always ends up abiding by her wishes in the end."

"Good," she simply said.

When they arrived at her room, she opened it with her key card, before taking his hand and lightly guiding him into the room with her.

He hovered near the door. "Laura?" he asked.

She didn't pretend to not know what the question was. Instead she walked over and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Yes," she said. She held his gaze steadily. "Yes," she repeated.

Slowly, he reached out, pulled her closer, and bent his head to kiss her.

She immediately let her lips separate to allow him access to her mouth; their tongues tangled luxuriously. Before they could do anything else, however, she pulled away so that she could look directly at his face again.

"What?" he asked as she continued to stare.

"I was just thinking about the way you kiss. You never try to dominate me," she almost whispered.

"No." He frowned. "Of course not." He placed his forehead onto hers. "Why would I?"

"You give as much as you take," she said, reaching up and running her fingers over the scarred skin of his face.

He chuckled. "That's a good thing, I hope."

"Yes," she agreed, boldly unbuttoning his tunic and tossing it off. She ran her hands over his strong shoulders before sliding down to concentrate on his biceps.

"Laura," he said her name in a worshipping manner.

She tugged at his tanks and pulled them up over his head, throwing them carelessly to the floor. She bent and gently kissed the new scar he had acquired when he had saved her life. Above her, she heard his sharp intake of breath as she suckled along the jagged red line.

When she arrived at the lower end of the scar, his strong arms pulled her back into the standing position.

"You," he murmured.

She never asked what he meant, and she was beyond worrying about such details. His eyes never left hers as he determinedly removed her jacket, followed by her blouse and skirt. He reached around, unclasped her bra, and gently caught her breasts in his hands as they tumbled out of their restraint, running his thumbs over her nipples. He never lingered though, but instead pulled down her last small triangle of clothing.

Next, he grasped her hands and pulled her arms away from her body to stare down at her nakedness until she started to quiver under the intensity of his gaze.

"You are so lovely." He said it with such sincerity that, at that moment, she felt lovely.

She smiled at him and, once again reached up to gently brush his lips with her own. "You're overdressed," she whispered.

He chuckled but soon made short work of the rest of his clothing. When he was fully naked, she couldn't resist a quick peek downwards and blushed when she saw the obvious evidence of his arousal. He chuckled. She smiled back up at him and her brief embarrassment dissipated when she considered how much she liked, respected and trusted Bill Adama.

He tugged her body over to his and they stood entwined together, their hands placed on one another's backs. She could feel every part of his body pressing against hers. Their sweet embrace was the most intimate moment she had ever shared with a member of the opposite sex.

Finally they separated, and he drew her over to her bed where they lay down together and he began to explore her body with his hands and mouth.

She had never felt so comfortable with exposing her body to another human being. She vaguely acknowledged that she had been correct with her earlier idea and she was baring her soul to him. Instead of the thought alarming her, she delighted in the feeling and found contentment in the total vulnerability of the moment.

She gasped and hummed when his mouth settled between her legs. He relentlessly suckled and kissed there until she stiffened in ecstasy. Pleasure swept through her body, causing her to groan and cry out his name. She felt his hand gently cup her mound as she came back from her high and she grinned at him when he crawled back up in the bed to lie beside her.

They softly kissed.

"Bill..." She said his name reverently.

"Mmm?" he murmured, pushing some stray hairs back off her forehead.

She just smiled and reached out to feather a touch along his hardness. He moaned immediately and she more confidently stroked along his shaft. She then started to explore his body as he had explored hers. She paid attention to his buttocks, his thighs, his back, his shoulders, his arms...

"Laura," he rasped, "I'm an old man. I can't wait any longer."

She giggled at his confession as he rolled on top of her and with one smooth motion they were joined.

He felt good inside of her. She felt oddly fulfilled already.

"That's good."

She wasn't sure if it was a question or not, but she answered with a hum before repeating his sentiment. "It is good."

He then started to move within her, at first slowly, and then their momentum started to escalate. She could feel his hardness swiping at her clitoris with each stroke. She was feeling flushed and her mind was starting to float out of her body. She recognised she was coming again just as she stiffened under him and even more moisture flooded to where their bodies were joined. She cried out his name, only one moment before she heard hers erupt from his lips.

He collapsed heavily on top of her but she welcomed his weight. She was still flushed and now puffing. Her most intelligent thought was that she wanted to feel his ass and back, so she promptly indulged herself.

"I'm too heavy," he grumbled cheerfully before leaning onto his side next to her. The movement made him fall out of her and she felt oddly bereft at their parting.

He pushed back her hair again before stroking her cheek.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled. "Stay the night," she ordered.

He chuckled at her tone. "You sure?" he asked. "I kind of thought you would want to keep this a secret. I mean, you did dismiss the guards."

"Yes. We should keep it a secret, I guess. But tonight I'm being completely selfish. I think we've earned that right. Stay, please."

"Anything you say, Madam President," he said before leaning over to kiss her once again.


	18. Beautiful Boy

_Chapter 18 - Beautiful Boy _

Bill Adama awoke to find Laura Roslin's body sexily tucked beside him. Her head was buried into his chest. Her hair was strewn behind her making a beautiful pattern on the sheets. One of her legs was flung over his shin and ankle. Her face was relaxed and a small serene smile was formed on her lips. He wondered if she always slept with that small smile. With a great deal of conceit, he hoped not.

In the past, he had felt uncomfortable actually sleeping with a woman. Too many years sleeping alone when serving on Battlestars and working on freighters had made him accustomed to his own company in a bed. Carolanne had actually often made him sleep on the couch due to his restlessness. This being long before she had made him sleep on the couch due to their irreconcilable differences.

So the fact that he was feeling completely content with this woman draped all over him should have been astounding, but it wasn't. He was in love with her. He would do anything for her, even share a bed with her. He chuckled at the thought that the most romantic thing he, William Adama, could do for a woman was make room for her in his bed.

She stirred at the sound of his chuckle, looked up at him groggily and blinked a few times.

"Bill?" He had the distinct impression she was trying to remember where she was.

"Yeah." He pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "Good morning."

"It is," she answered with a grin. "I can't believe we, um, well... Three times at our age?"

"Yeah." He chuckled and reached over to peck another kiss on her cheek. "I was inspired."

She hummed, then struggled to lift her head up to check the readout of the bedside clock. She had one hour before she was due at the morning session of the Quorum Meeting. She groaned when she registered the time and flopped her head back down to his chest.

"I don't want to go," she grumbled. "The Quorum. Their pettiness, their whining, their political machinations. I don't want to face them. I don't want to face any of them. I just want to stay in bed all day and sleep."

"Sleep?" he asked saucily.

"Well," she arched an eyebrow at him, "maybe not sleep all day."

"Mmm," he murmured. "I'll be back in a second." He stood up and went to the head, turned on the shower and felt the water until he thought the temperature was just right. He then returned to the bed and reached around her body.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Put your arm around me," he ordered softly. "Can you?" he asked as she stared in confusion.

"What? Why?"

"Watch." He lifted her and walked easily with her weight in his arms to the bathroom. Then he stepped them both into the shower, grabbed the soap and lathered their bodies with suds between cries of laughter.

0.0.0

During her lunch break from the Quorum meeting, Laura was letting her thoughts wander.

She was feeling comfortable about everything that happened the night before - comfortable, relaxed, and happy.

She hadn't wanted to throw Bill out when she woke. She didn't want to leave him. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to talk to him, spend time with him, sit with him, read with him. She actually wanted to do more than just frak him. However, she _did_ still want to frak him. All this was new. All this was wonderful.

"Madam President," Billy interrupted her daydream, "I was wondering if I could stay a couple of extra days on _Cloud Nine_?"

Laura looked up at him surprised. She tried to remember the last time Billy had a day off. Sometime last year for his sister's wedding, she remembered.

"Of course, Billy." She studied him over the top of her glasses. He tried valiantly to continue to eat while she was deliberately and openly watched him. "Does Lieutenant Dualla have any extra leave owing?" she asked in an innocent voice.

Billy just continued to eat, clearing ignoring her teasing.

She grinned. His continued silence acknowledged she was correct in her assumption that he would be spending his time off with the pretty Communications Officer.

0.0.0

Anastasia Dualla sat in the shuttle Raptor bound for _Pegasus_ with tears dripping down her cheeks.

She was crying for Billy Keikeya: the man she had once imagined herself in love with. She now knew she viewed Billy as only a friend. They had outgrown their relationship. They needed to move on to the next stage. For Billy, that was marrying. For her, that was breaking up.

She was crying for Lee Adama: the man she realised she did love after the last few months of working with him on_ Pegasus_. At first she had been drawn to him because of her relationship with his father. William Adama had been the most influential Commanding Officer she had ever served under. Lee demonstrated all the same virtues and qualities that she admired in the elder Adama. On several occasions, she and Lee had spent hours talking - about everything; politics, religion, their careers, their family. Somewhere along the line, she started to think about Lee in other ways. He, however, had remained the epitome of politeness and propriety, and had never made any sexual overtures towards her whatsoever.

She was crying for herself: a woman in love with a man who was clearly involved with another woman-Kara Thrace.

She cried again for Billy: a man she had just left behind on _Cloud Nine_ with a broken heart.

She cried again for Lee: a man who would never know that he owned her heart.

She cried again for herself: a stupid woman who had thrown the love of a sweet and gentle soul back in his face for a dream of another unattainable man.

0.0.0

"Madam President." Tory burst into Laura Roslin's office unannounced. "I think you should read this."

Tory's hand was shaking as Laura took the letter from the young girl. The piece of paper contained letters cut out of a magazine instead of handwriting or typed print.

"The Demand Peace movement requires the Colonial Fleet be disbanded," she read. "Cylons are not our enemy. It is immoral to continue with the human barbarity of war. We will send a clear signal to President Roslin today at noon. Demand Peace. Demand Peace now."

She looked back up to Tory who was clearly in an agitated state.

"This letter was hand delivered to the front desk this morning," Tory said. "No one even opened it until about a half an hour ago. This letter just arrived."

Tory passed the second letter to her. Laura stood up and moved around to Tory's side of the desk and captured the young girl's shaking hand in her own in a soothing fashion.

"Noon," the second letter read. "A nuclear warhead will explode and destroy _Cloud Nine_. Laura Roslin will say goodbye to several of her key military officers who create war mongering within the Twelve Colonies. Demand Peace. Demand Peace now."

She looked up at the time. Her clock read 11.55 am. "Oh my Gods. Billy..."

0.0.0

"Dad?"

William Adama looked up to see his son filling the door frame of his Caprican office.

"Lee?" he said. "What are you doing here?" He had thought Lee had returned to _Columbia_.

"I wanted to come and tell you personally." Lee walked over to his desk and placed two gold plated pips on top of his paperwork.

"What's this?" Bill asked.

"I resigned from the Fleet this morning," Lee informed him.

He looked up at his son disbelievingly.

"I let over two thousand people die."

"It wasn't your fault, son."

Bill had spoken to Kara last night. She also was racked with guilt from letting the Demand Peace terrorist cell smuggle a nuclear warhead onto _Cloud Nine._

Bill knew that once the president had left the luxury liner, all the military personnel left on board had taken the opportunity to indulge in the pleasures of the ship.

"I let personal feelings interfere with my duty as an officer," Lee said. "I dropped my guard. I took a break before the fight was really over and we paid the price in lives. That can't happen again."

Lee was right, but he wasn't the only one who had let personal feelings sway him over the last few days. As part of the Admiralty he had been in charge of security, so, in reality, the buck stopped with him. He had briefly spoken to Laura. She was hiding away trying to deal with her grief, but he knew she also, on some level, was blaming herself for Billy's death.

"Lee-"

"No." Lee put a hand up to stop him from talking. "Dad. I'm done."

Even though he and Lee had spent such a long time estranged, he could still read Lee easily and he could see there was no way he was going to change Lee's mind regarding the resignation. He sighed and pinched his nose. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I want to explore." Lee grinned, looking like a weight had lifted from his shoulders. "I want to climb the mountains. I want to cross the oceans. I want to-" Lee looked sheepishly at his father. "I don't believe I'm saying this."

Bill grunted. He didn't think Lee sounded foolish, just young. Lee had only joined the military to pay for his college tuition, but he had hoped his son may have come to love the service eventually as he did. Now he knew that he had to let Lee go. He needed to let his son find his own way in life; fulfill a destiny that wasn't necessarily one Bill had carved out beforehand.

"It sounds so exhausting."

Lee grinned, correctly reading his words as acceptance. "I must be crazy."


	19. Stand By Me

_Chapter 19 - Stand by Me_

"Lee? I'm just calling to find out what flight you're catching tomorrow. Thought maybe we could go to the airport together."

"Flight? What flight? Where are you going?"

Bill frowned into the phone. Surely Kara had invited Lee. He had always believed Kara considered Lee as much a part of her family as he was.

"Have you been away?" Maybe Lee had already gone on one of his adventures. "Maybe you haven't checked your post."

"No," Lee answered. "I've just been bumming around at home. I was thinking of going away in a couple of months. What mail do you think I may have missed?"

"Kara's invitation," he replied.

"Invitation? That doesn't sound like Starbuck. Organising a party that requires formal written invitations," Lee joked. "Usually it's just 'you can come along, as long as you bring alcohol' in her world."

"A wedding is usually pretty formal."

Lee was silent on the other end of the phone. Obviously Lee was as shocked as he was to hear Kara was finally settling down.

"Sudden, isn't it," Bill continued pleasantly, "but she did manage to get the invitations out, organise a Priest and even, she tells me, a dress."

"Sudden," Lee croaked. "Who?"

Bill didn't pretend that he couldn't interpret Lee's one word question. "Samuel Anders. You know, the pyramid player. The wedding is tomorrow night. You'd better give her a call. Something must have happened to your invitation. I'm sure she'd want you to be there."

"No, Dad," Lee said in a far away voice. "I'm busy already. I...I've got to go Dad. There's someone at the door."

Bill looked down at the phone that was now beeping with an engaged signal. Maybe Kara and Lee were having some sort of argument. It would be a pity if they couldn't work it out before her wedding.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin trudged along behind Commander Britton and Lieutenant Agathon. The Cylon woman the Lieutenant loved was leading their group. Laura didn't know what to believe about the girl who claimed to be different from her 'twin' - the one who had shot Bill. The one thing Laura was sure about though, was that the girl wanted to save her child and her lover, and as such 'Sharon' had agreed to assist them here on the planet they believed to be Kobol.

They'd been hiking for three days now. Three days of steep climbs, rugged terrain and driving precipitation. Laura lifted her head up and let the water flow over her face. She wavered between loving the feel of it running over her skin, and hating the way it caused her clothes to uncomfortably stick to her and made her boots' squelch.

She seemed to be wavering in respect to several elements of her life at the moment.

Her career for one. Sometimes she was happy with her exalted position; she felt like she was making a difference. At other times, the pressure was getting to be too much; she wanted to resign from the stresses of public life, and just hide away in a cabin in the woods.

She was equally torn in respect to her relationship with Bill. She wanted to be with him, but since Billy's death something kept holding her back from committing completely.

She hadn't told him about this trip to Kobol. She had, in fact, deliberately timed the mission to the planet to coincide with some personal leave he had requested to attend Kara's wedding. She knew he wouldn't have let her come to the planet. He would have insisted on her staying in Caprica City.

Another thing she was confused by: his protective nature. Most of the time, it made her feel safe, but at other times, she felt it stifled her independence. She hadn't become President by relying on a man.

"Madam President, I think it may be wise if we camped here tonight," Commander Britton turned to tell her.

"Good idea," Mitchell Meier agreed. "It will be too dark to continue soon."

She wavered once again. She was tired and removing her boots sounded blissful. However, she knew once she stopped she would start to brood. About Billy. About Bill.

She let her near exhaustion win out. "Yes, fine."

0.0.0

Laura sat by the fire, watching Elosha talking to Commander Britton. The Commander, she had come to discover, was a deeply religious man. She felt quite jealous of the time Elosha and the Commander were spending discussing the Sacred Scrolls. She didn't really desire to socialise with any of the other members of the group gathered here on the newly discovered planet.

Most of them were Fleet personnel. A Lieutenant Alex something-or-other. Rudely, she couldn't even remember his surname. She knew it was Tauron and started with a Q. Everyone just addressed him by his callsign, 'Crashdown'. He was the Raptor ECO apparently. Another acronym she would need to ask about.

Crashdown was camped next to the Raptor pilot - Lieutenant Margaret Edmonson, callsign 'Racetrack'.

In the next tarp, Lieutenant Agathon sat with the mother of his baby. They looked like any other young couple in love-sharing their rations, laughing at one another's jokes, occasionally touching and kissing.

Further along were two technicians who would assist them with the jump drives if necessary: Specialist Tarn and Specialist Socinus. No one had told her their first names. They both seemed extremely young. They were also extremely shy and nervous whenever she as much glanced in their direction.

The last tarp was occupied by the gentleman who had been employed as her official aide for the trek. She had needed someone to assist her if any administration duties were required, but the person required to fill the position, obviously, also needed to be handy in survival techniques. She had decided to leave Tory in Caprica. Mitchell Meier had been recommended by the Vice President. He was an ex-Marine apparently, and now worked with Tom Zarek as an adviser. Thus far, the man had not really been needed to do anything other than trail along with the group. She didn't get the impression he would be keen to engage in a conversation with her though, so she kept her distance.

Other than that, there were two Marines acting as bodyguards to the group. They were not sleeping in the main camp, however. She didn't know who they were or where they were, which was the point. They were assigned to protect the group from afar.

So once again, she found herself lonely and alone. With a sigh she went and settled beneath her tent, hoping the rain which had eased off about an hour ago, didn't reappear.

0.0.0

"Up there." Sharon pointed to a rocky outcrop on a distant mountain. "I think that's it."

"How long do you think it will take us to get there?" Laura asked the Commander.

"I would think, if the rain holds off, we should reach there sometime this afternoon," Britton supposed.

"Let's go, then," she said, encouraging the group to once again set out. They needed to get to the tomb as quickly as possible. She wasn't sure how Tory was fending off the press on Caprica but the longer she was 'missing' from the public eye, the more elaborate the reason for her absence would need to be.

Three hours later, Laura was reassessing her opinion on striving forth at such a pace. Her legs ached in places where she hadn't even known she had muscles. It wasn't teeming with rain as it had on previous days, however, there was still a light sprinkling mist falling which continued to make her clothes and the ground muddy and slippery. The palms of her hands were bleeding from grabbing at branches and vines to save herself when she slipped over. She found herself dreaming of a bath-a nice hot bath; maybe with Bill behind her, washing her hair...

Her reverie was shattered with the loud rattling noise of machine gun fire.

Commander Britton immediately pushed her down to the ground and covered her body with his.

"Sir?" Lieutenant Agathon asked quietly after everyone realised the gunfire was in the near distance. "What do you think? About two clicks away?"

"I was thinking three but that's still too close. Who the hell would be out here?"

"Cylons," Sharon said.

Everyone turned their heads to stare at the girl.

"No one else could know about this planet or have the jump drive technology to get here. It has to be Cylons. Probably Centurions."

"She's probably right," Commander Britton conceded. He then began to bark orders: "Crashdown, Helo, Racetrack, Tarn, you're with me. Madam President, you and Elosha will stay here with Mr Meier and Specialist Socinus."

"What about Sharon?" Helo demanded.

Commander Britton looked from Helo to Sharon and back again.

"She stays here. Handcuff her," he ordered Crashdown. He looked back at Lieutenant Agathon. "Sorry, Helo, I just can't take the chance."

0.0.0

Laura checked her watch again. Ten minutes since Commander Britton and his group had headed off towards where they heard the gunfire. She and Elosha sat sheltered in some bushes, praying together for the safe return of their people. Mr Meier was speaking to Sharon, while Socinus was pacing up and down nervously.

"Shouldn't you sit down, Specialist," she said. "I would think we should be trying to remain camouflaged."

"Yes, you're right," he muttered. He took one step towards where she sat when a shot rang out and the young boy fell to the ground in front of her, obviously dead.

Elosha let out a small scream and more shots were fired. Laura pressed her body closer into the undergrowth they were using as cover. She grabbed Elosha's hand to urge her to do the same, but it dropped lifelessly to her side. Laura stifled a moan and started to shiver when she realised the priestess was also dead.

"Madam President," a voice said. She looked up to see Mitchell Meier pointing a gun at her.

"Madam President!" another voice yelled. It was the Cylon Sharon. Sharon's legs were bound with rope. The rope then looped up to the handcuffs effectively hog-tying the girl.

Laura blinked, suddenly realising there were no Centurions shooting at them. "You killed them?"

"That won't be the official story," Meier said. "The Cylon will be blamed. I will tell them she escaped, killed all of you three before I had a chance to overpower her."

Laura shivered when Meier jerked his gun, wordlessly ordering her to stand and walk out into the clear.

"Why?" she whispered. She needed time. She needed to keep him talking. Behind him she could see Sharon struggling with her restraints. Cylons obviously had greater strength than humans. Sharon may break free from her shackles if she gave it enough time. Laura just hoped Sharon would choose to save her if it did.

"The Vice President will succeed into your position, of course."

"Tom Zarek," she sighed. "I-," she started.

"Madam President," Meier interrupted. "I'm really going to have to cut this conversation short. We wouldn't want that thing over there to escape and come to your aid, would we?"

Laura closed her eyes for a brief moment. Meier had seen through her attempt at stalling.

"Now," he said, pointing his gun straight at Laura's head. She kept her eyes open. She wanted him to remember this moment. He cocked his gun. A shot rang out. She felt nothing, and she remained standing. Instead, Meier dropped to the ground in front of her.

She spun around. A stocky man with a craggy face stood a few feet away, his gun pointed to Meier.

Tears began to stream down her face.

The man threw the gun roughly to the ground and walked to where she stood.

She whimpered with relief as he took her in his arms and passionately kissed her.

The feel of his lips against hers felt right. His arms, almost crushing her, felt good. Her tears continued to fall and she never bothered to wipe at them.

"Missed you," he said as they finally broke away from their kiss.

"Me too," she replied.

She knew then. It became clear.

She grabbed him again and hugged him fiercely. "I love you," she whispered in his ear, acknowledging in her head, at last, what her heart had known for weeks.

He eased back to look at her face. He leaned down and gently kissed her tears away. "About time," he answered.

She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a whimper and clutched William Adama to her.


	20. You Are Here

_Chapter 20 - You Are Here _

"Oh my Gods! Elosha!" Laura exclaimed, diving down to the ground next to her friend, feeling her neck for a pulse. Bill came down on his haunches beside her.

"She's gone, Laura," he said a moment later.

"No, no, not another one," she murmured quietly as she swept the hair out of Elosha's eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

"Socinus is dead too sir," a male voice said behind her. "I worked with him on _Galactica._ He was a good kid."

"Sir?" a woman's familiar voice asked. She looked over to see Captain Thrace pointing her gun directly at the Cylon.

The man that had checked on Socinus moved towards Sharon. He stared at her for a long while with a strange look on his face. Sharon, who seemed to have stopped struggling with her handcuffs, held the man's gaze.

"Hello Chief," Sharon said to the man.

The man ignored her and turned back to address Bill. "I know you said they looked the same but I didn't think..." The man's words faltered and he just shook his head in confusion.

"Yeah," Bill rumbled in a sympathetic way.

Their mood was broken with a loud burst of gun fire in the near distance.

"Sir?" Starbuck asked Bill. Laura didn't know the question but Bill's commanding attitude took over.

"Laura, what's going on? Where's Britton? Why were you here by yourselves?" he questioned her in a rapid fire manner.

She quickly explained about the Marines and the gun fire, giving Bill the general direction the Commander and the others had taken.

"Starbuck, you and the Chief could double back the way we came and come up behind the Centurions. From the President's description, Britton's force should be on that ridge and, therefore, in the front of the Cylon forces. With you coming in from the back, we may have a chance. I'll stay here and guard the president."

"You need to take me!" Sharon almost yelled.

"Like you'll help us fry some toasters," Starbuck snapped sarcastically.

"Helo is out there, Starbuck," Sharon said as an explanation.

"I think she may have been trying to help me," Laura confirmed to Bill.

"I can walk right up to them," Sharon told Bill. "Centurions can't distinguish me from the other humanoid models. Did you know that?"Sharon snapped at Starbuck. "They were deliberately programmed that way."

"Cylons didn't want them becoming self aware and suddenly resisting orders," Bill guessed. Sharon nodded confirmation. "They didn't want their own robotic rebellion on their hands," Bill murmured. "I appreciate the irony."

Bill gazed at Sharon for a long time before another burst of gunfire sparked him into action.

"Okay. Starbuck, get Sharon out of her restraints, then you three get up there and get our men."

Laura stiffened as the Cylon came over to stand close to the Admiral once Starbuck had freed her. Bill, to his credit, didn't flinch.

"How do you know?" Sharon asked. "How do you really know that you can trust me?"

"I don't," he admitted. "That's what trust is," he explained. "Good hunting," he added.

As Starbuck, Sharon and the other man made their way towards the gunfire, Bill guided her once again to the area with some cover. He sat alertly, his eyes scanning the terrain the entire time. Everything would be okay now Bill was here... She hoped...

0.0.0

Later that evening, Bill Adama found Laura Roslin in her tent. Her body was curled up tightly in a ball. She was silently crying. He could see the tear marks on her cheeks.

He picked up one of her small pale hands and rubbed the inside of her wrist in attempt to offer her some comfort.

"Elosha said any return to Kobol would be paid with a price of blood," she whispered. "I just didn't expect so much. How's Specialist Tarn?"

Bill's eyes closed for a moment before he looked back at her. "He died," he said, confirming her fears. "Commander Britton's wounds are looking good though. He'll be okay."

"So what's the final count?" she asked in a bitter tone. "Elosha, the two Marines, the two specialists, the ECO Crashdown and Meier. Seven people's lives. All dead because of my ridiculous dreams."

He sighed. He didn't think any of it was her fault. At least three less people would be dead if it wasn't for Tom Zarek. Surely she was going to get rid of the terrorist bastard now. "I think Zarek knew what Meier was going to do."

"I don't know... I don't know who to trust." She lifted her red rimmed eyes and held his gaze unflinchingly. "Except you," she said emotionally.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. She'd lost so many loved ones, he was honoured that she continued to trust him-and offer him her love. He knew his love had been obvious for weeks now. He didn't need to tell her. She knew.

"You haven't told me how you came to be here anyway, Admiral? You were supposed to be on leave."

"I went to Kara's wedding where she told me Helo hadn't been able to attend because he was going on a special ops mission for the president. After some gentle persuasion on my part," he chuckled unabashedly, "I found out that you believed this planet to be Kobol and were looking for the Tomb of Athena with the Cylon guiding you."

"So you just decided to break up Kara's honeymoon to check out my progress," she teased.

He chuckled again. "Being an Admiral means I can make certain demands on resources without being questioned and as you made me Admiral, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"I've told you, it wasn't my idea to make you Admiral," she denied with a smile.

He grinned before becoming more serious when explaining the actions of his last few days. "I admit, I didn't trust Sharon. Kara volunteered. She and Sam weren't going on a honeymoon, anyway. His pyramid schedule is pretty full for the next few weeks. I brought Chief Tyrol along in case we had any issues with the Cylon jump drives. We tracked your path, and I guess we caught up with your group pretty fast as there was only the three of us. We didn't stop or rest much."

She giggled suddenly.

"What?" he laughingly asked.

"I have first hand knowledge of your stamina, Admiral," she spluttered out.

"The strength of my stamina depends on the motivation, Madam President."

He held her hand again and continued to smile at her. "That's better," he whispered, wiping the stains of her tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

He thought his motivation was quite obvious.

0.0.0

How William Adama always could make her smile, even in such times, she would never know. She felt bereft when he dropped his hand away from her cheeks and wrist and stood up. He moved over to where his poncho, that had been protecting him from Kobol's insistent rain while he helped bury the dead, lay at the door of the tent. He lifted the poncho, picked up something from beneath it and came back to sit beside her. He held out the item towards her. Laura could now see it was a book. A book covered in blood. Elosha's copy of the Sacred Scrolls. She took it from him and held it to her chest.

"I think it's time to go find this Tomb of yours," he said.

"Tomorrow," she whispered putting the book to one side and kneeling up to kiss him.

His hands came down to cup her face. His blue eyes held her gaze for a long time, sending her such a message of love and loyalty that tears once again welled in her eyes with the intensity of the emotions he was conveying.

"Yeah," he finally said, pushing her down onto the sleeping bag where he kissed her again.

Their lips continued to meld together as they revisited each other's taste. Laura felt Bill's hands find her jacket and unzip it slowly before pushing it off her shoulders. His mouth left hers only to suckle at her breast through the material of her shirt. She lifted her hips slightly as he helped her strip out of her pants. She took the opportunity to pull off her tee-shirt when he stood to remove his clothing.

He smiled down at her. "Did I mention I missed you?" he asked, lightening their mood.

"Yeah, I think you did." She giggled. "Prove it?" She cocked an eyebrow, challenging him cheekily.

He chuckled as he once again lowered himself next to her. "What about those three words that slipped out of your mouth when I arrived," he teased as he ran a finger between her breasts and down the length of her body.

"Don't know what you mean," she said breathlessly.

"Let me see if I can make you say them again..." His lips followed the path his finger had just taken. When his mouth arrived at her navel, he looked up at her. "Maybe I can make you scream them."

"Admiral, I can't." Feigning shock, she slapped him on his gorgeous tight ass playfully. "We're in a tent, for goodness sake."

"The whole lot of them will be on trial for treason if they breathe a word," he growled before dipping his head and letting his tongue swirl between her legs.

She knew that she would say those three words again. For various reasons, she had never said those words to anyone other than her family. This man, however, would hear them from her until the day she died.


	21. Working Class Hero

_Chapter 21 - Working Class Hero_

"Bill! It's so good to see you." Ellen Tigh kissed Bill hard on the lips, letting her hand linger on his friend's chest for a second too long.

Saul Tigh chuckled to himself. Some things never change. Ellen's attempts to make him constantly jealous were transparent. They also turned him on and she knew it.

"Keep your frakkin' hands to yourself, woman," he growled at her playfully.

She laughed and batted her eyelids at him before they all flopped down into their seats.

"First pyramid, now the hottest prize fight tickets in town," he said in an astonished voice. "She must really frakkin' like your cock, Bill."

"Saul!" Bill growled. "Keep your voice down, for frak's sake."

"Ha!" he said triumphantly. "No instant denial this time, I notice."

"What are you talking about, Saul?" Ellen asked.

"Bill here," he gestured towards his friend who was keeping up the pretense with a stoic look, "is frakkin' his boss."

"Who?" she asked with a confused look on her face. "One of the other Admirals? Good Gods, not Cain, I hope."

"Nah, you stupid woman," he snapped. He glanced at the stony look emitting from Bill's face and begrudgingly lowered his voice before answering his wife. "Laura frakkin' Roslin," he hissed.

Saul laughed as Ellen's eyes widened so much they practically popped out of her head. "What?" she screeched loudly over the general din of the auditorium.

"I told you he had the hots for her," he reminded her.

"I thought you just made that up," she accused. "As some lame excuse to why you two had been fighting."

"Nah," he said. "Gods honest truth."

"Haven't you two got anything better to do than talk about my sex life?" Bill injected.

"I'm just in shock," Ellen admitted. "I didn't really think the Ice Queen would do that sort of thing. You mean to tell me that the prim and proper President of the Twelve Colonies is getting down and dirty and frakkin' a real frakkin' man?"

"I think," Bill said in an icy voice, "you should be careful what you say next Ellen."

"Oh Bill, you have got it bad," she turned back to Saul. "I think our Bill's actually in love with the woman," she said.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Saul agreed.

She swung around to Bill again. "So if you get married, will you be the First Man, First Gentleman, what?" she teased.

"Ellen, one more word and I swear-" Bill started angrily.

"Oh." Ellen reached over and gave him a hug, letting him know how much she enjoyed their love/hate relationship and the consequential banter that came along with it. "You don't wanna frak with me Bill, try to remember that," she said laughingly.

They had ended their arguments over the years this way so many times it had become their little ritual.

"Don't you frak with me either, Ellen," Bill gave his predictable answer.

0.0.0

Bill Adama was enjoying one of the preliminary bouts when a voice spoke close to his ear.

"There you are," he heard Laura Rolsin's rich tones say.

"Hey," he said standing up to greet her.

He couldn't resist eyeing her up and down. She was dressed in an elegant blouse and jacket on top, but it was her legs that drew his attention. Instead of being bare in one of her ridiculously short skirts, tonight they were moulded into a pair of tight denim jeans. She always looked stylish and beautiful, but in the jeans she looked incredibly sexy as well. He leered at her, feeling incredibly smug at the thought that she had wrapped those gorgeous legs around him.

He realised he'd obviously been staring for a prolonged period when she arched a smile at him. "What?" she asked in a throaty tone.

He just continued to smile at her, thinking about all the ways he wanted to pleasure her. She swayed next to him and held his gaze, silently flirting with him.

"Bill!" Saul barked behind him.

"You remember Saul Tigh, my XO from _Galactica_?" he asked.

"Yes, of course, hello Colonel," she politely greeted Saul.

"My wife Ellen," Saul said. The two women nodded and murmured general greetings to each other, but immediately Bill angled his body to effectively block off the other couple so that he could talk to Laura privately.

"I didn't know you'd be here tonight," he said.

"Who did you think this seat was for?" She pointed to the empty seat beside him and made a motion so that they both lowered themselves into their allocated seats.

"My father was an avid fight fan," she said, having to lean close for him to hear. "I adored my father, so I love a good fight."

He smiled at her again. He thought about Ellen's perception of Laura as an Ice Queen. Ellen couldn't be more wrong. Once you got through her outer barriers, she was one of the warmest human beings you could ever meet. Unfortunately, he knew that almost everyone she had let in behind her wall of reservation had left her in one way or another. With the passing of each member of her family, another piece of her heart had been chipped away. No one had been there to catch her as she fell apart.

She had turned to an affair of convenience with Richard Adar and he, in turn, had betrayed her by questioning her professional integrity and publicising their personal relationship. To add salt to the wound, the man had even timed his treachery to coincide with her cancer diagnosis. Adar was a prick.

She had buried herself in her position, transferring all her efforts into being the President of the Twelve Colonies. Occasionally, people had been allowed see past her well polished facade: Marcie, Billy, Elosha, a fellow cancer patient named Emily she had told him about, and now, him. Some of them had left her as well. Not through choice though. He thought those who truly loved her would never leave her willingly.

He smiled at her again, hoping against hope that he would be there with her all the way to the end.

"I thought you were busy campaigning," he commented, willing himself to stop thinking any further about death.

Since they had returned from Kobol, Laura had been in full campaign mode. The election was only six weeks away and every minute of her day had been occupied with press conferences, grand openings, public appearances and the like.

They had met several times during the day-on business. He had to keep her up to date regarding the map they had found in the Tomb of Athena and the progress he had made in finding the nebula.

Their night time visits had been, unfortunately, less numerous. Really, late night phone calls had of late been their only connection.

"Well, apparently," she drawled, "I need to connect more to the working class people, therefore, I am being paraded around tonight. According to my advisers, the voters think I'm some sort of opera loving snob."

He nodded, mystified that Ellen's misconception was more widespread.

"Of course, My Triumphs, My Mistakes by Gaius Baltar isn't helping matters," she added.

"When's the debate?" he asked.

"Oh, that's a beautiful combination," she said, commenting on the fight. She grimaced over to him and answered his original question. "Two weeks before the vote."

"Don't worry, you'll wipe the floor with him," he assured her.

She hummed.

The fight finished and the referee announced the winner.

"Can you hold these?" She surprised him by handing him her glasses before jumping up and agilely climbing through the ropes into the ring.

She gave a small speech, keeping it light and casual. After she was finished, he expected her to return to her seat but she surprised him again by staying in the ring near the referee and head judge as the next two opponents were introduced. The two fighters stood in the middle and pushed their gloves together to 'shake hands' prior to the bout. They both then went over to Laura and did the same to her. The crowd cheered and laughed. Then, she picked up a large placard with the number one written on it, hoisted it over her head and strutted around the ring. Her theatrics were met with wolf whistles, applause and general feet stomping from the audience.

He chuckled as she came back to her seat, taking back her glasses and donning them.

"You're supposed to do that in a bikini," he teased.

She snorted.

"You've got my vote Madam President," he assured her.

"I should think so, Admiral," she said in a low too sexy tone.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the bout, clapping and cheering in the correct places before he found himself chuckling again.

"What?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"Do you think an old soldier specifies as 'working class'?" he asked.

She hummed and considered for a moment. "Your father was a well-known lawyer, so you didn't exactly struggle financially, I'm guessing, but," she paused and looked over at him over the top of her glasses, "your family is originally from Tauron, so I don't think we should class you as Caprican elite either."

"Good point."

"So," she managed to pronounce the word with at least three syllables, "I think you'll pass as 'working class' and I'm thinking I really should connect with the 'working class' in more than one way tonight."

She ended her sentence with another suggestive look his way.

"Excellent idea, I think, Madam President," he agreed.


	22. Surprise, Surprise

_Chapter 22 - Surprise, Surprise_

Bill woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and sex. The coffee aroma was wafting from a small percolator that was set up on a table on the far side of her bedroom. The scent of sex was coming from the sheets he was laying on. He chuckled to himself, wondering if he'd ever get enough of Laura.

Laura chose that moment to sweep through her bedroom door. She looked incredibly sexy, barefoot and wearing a silky light green nightgown. He wondered if she had bothered to put on anything underneath it. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose as she intently absorbed an article in one of the morning papers.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she said as she glanced his way and saw he was awake. She tossed the newspapers on the table, along with her glasses and practically dove onto the bed beside him.

"Good morning." He chuckled as their lips met in a sweet kiss.

"You want some coffee?" she asked.

As much as he loved his early morning coffee, he decided that she tasted better and he pulled her body across to comfortably lie on his.

She giggled before they leisurely enjoyed another lingering kiss.

"You'd rather tea?" she asked in a playfully innocent voice when they finally parted.

He leaned back and gazed up at her. Last night she had insisted on apologising for not telling him about Kobol. She'd tried to explain the fear she had felt at wholly surrendering herself to another person. They'd talked into the night about the men in her past, her family, her religious beliefs and her worries over the threat of the Cylons.

They'd talked about his divorce from Carolanne, Zak's death, and his relationship with Lee. They'd talked about his father, and the impact of the terrorist attacks that had taken the life of his father's first wife and daughter, and then his half-brother namesake. They even talked about his lack of religious beliefs, the First Cylon War, and his career within the Fleet and out of it.

They hadn't, he now realised, talked about the future. He still had no idea where they would go from here. He knew he loved her. He believed her when she said she loved him. He only hoped that would be enough.

He wanted her to win the election. Even if he was biased, he believed she was easily the best president the Twelve Colonies had ever had. However, a selfish part of him longed for her to lose so that he could just enjoy some quality time with just Laura Roslin.

He wasn't sure what his place in her life would be if she spent another three years in office. He wasn't getting any younger and his retirement was imminent. He worried about what sort of life he would lead when he was no longer an Admiral and just the boyfriend of a president.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing."

"Liar," she said.

"Yeah," he admitted, "but can we talk about it another time?"

She kissed him again. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he assured her, "it can wait."

0.0.0

"Gaius Baltar is up three points in this poll," Tory informed Laura Roslin during their early morning briefing.

"I don't take much notice of polls, Tory," she said. "Have you got Home Security's transcripts of their interview with the Vice President?"

"Um, yes." Tory rummaged through a pile of papers before finding the relevant page and handing it to her. "He claims that he had no knowledge of Mr Meier's plans."

"Well, obviously," she said sarcastically. "I hardly think he would admit he was planning on assassinating the President of the Twelve Colonies to her security detail. Have you copied this to Admiral Adama?"

"Um, no, I-" Tory started in a somewhat flustered fashion. "I didn't realise he'd want a copy," Tory finally said.

She frowned. Tory was usually so efficient. The girl seemed distracted and exhausted.

"Of course Admiral Adama will need a copy," she said in an impatient tone. "I told you, he's interviewing Zarek today. It would help if he could see what Zarek told Home Security so he can compare the Vice President's answers."

"Okay, I'll do that now." Tory stood to leave.

"And Tory, you may want to pull a comb through your hair more than once a week," she snapped. She sighed. The election was only a few weeks away and it seemed her now chief Aide was suddenly away with the fairies.

0.0.0

Laura couldn't hide the smile that flew to her face when Bill walked into her office for their scheduled meeting at five o'clock that afternoon.

"Hi," she said, rising from her chair and coming round to meet him in the centre of the room.

He quickly bent down and kissed her briefly on the lips. She looked up and put on a false pout. "Is that it?" she asked teasingly.

He raised his eyebrows slightly and walked away from her and back towards the door. The door reopened and Admiral Cain and Nagala walked into the office. The other admirals were deep in conversation, giving her the opportunity to flash Bill a laughing glance before she offered them all a chair.

"You interviewed Mr Zarek today," she said, getting down to business.

"Admiral Cain did actually," Bill told her.

She couldn't hide her surprise. "Really? I thought you would have done it." Bill was the only Admiral on Kobol and he did, of course, have a personal interest in her welfare.

"Yes, it was Admiral Adama's idea," Cain said in her usual tough rigid tone.

She looked at Bill questioningly. He was looking at her with a guilty little-boy face.

"Admiral Adama believes that Mr Zarek sees himself as a ladies man," Cain went on. "He thought that the Vice President would attempt to charm me."

Laura tried to smother a giggle at the thought of Tom Zarek sitting in an interrogation room attempting to hit on Helena Cain.

"And he did," Bill said.

"Did?"

"Try to charm me, Madam President," Cain answered. "He pulled out all the stops, in fact. As Admiral Adama predicted he saw me as a pushover."

This time she had no luck in holding back her giggle. "If there's one thing you are not, Admiral," she told Cain, "it's a pushover."

"Thank you, ma'am," Cain said stiffly. "I think," the woman added.

"After Admiral Cain let Zarek make a bit of an idiot of himself for a while, she fired off a few questions in her usual efficient style," Bill said.

"And?" Laura prompted.

"Nothing that will hold up in a court of law, ma'am," Cain answered. "However, I think it might be appropriate if you reduce Mr Zarek's security privileges, and ensure nothing important crosses the Vice President's desk."

"You agree with this Bill?" she said, letting his name slip. She tried not to be rattled that the Admiralty obviously thought Tom Zarek was guilty but they had no proof.

"I hate to lay all this on you, Laura," Bill said, obviously not worrying what the other Admirals thought about them using their first names to each other, "especially so near the election but I think you need to govern independently for a few weeks. We're going to keep digging and see if we can come up with any concrete evidence. Here's the full interview transcript."

"I would also suggest Home Security keep surveillance on Mr Zarek for the foreseeable future," Nagala added.

"Okay, any news on from _Columbia_ and their search for the nebula?" she asked, effectively changing the subject away from the Vice President.

"No, nothing new," Bill answered. "We do have some good news about the defence system's main frame. We've had a computer expert look at it and she thinks it will probably only take four weeks to disable Dr Baltar's program."

"She?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cain answered. "Her name is Gina Inviere. She was previously a systems analyst under my command on _Pegasus_. She left the service a few months ago to work in the private sector. We chose her as most of the usual security checks had already been carried out when she was enlisted in the Fleet."

"Okay, keep me informed. If there is no other business, that will be all. Thank you, everyone."

Cain and Nagala both politely said their goodbyes and left her office.

Bill lingered near the door before shutting it and returning to where she was seated. He surprised her by reaching down, physically lifting her from the chair and enveloping her in a bear hug.

She returned his embrace fiercely.

"Will you stay at the mansion again tonight?" she asked, selfishly giving into her needs.

"Thought you'd never ask."

0.0.0

"You're really special, you know," Gaius Baltar told the woman. He wasn't completely lying, he thought. All women were special, after all.

"Have you got the radio on in another room?" she asked vaguely.

"No," he answered, frowning at the way her eyes kept darting around the room.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You can't hear that music?"

"No, I definitely cannot hear any music. We're alone. It's okay, baby, no one knows about us." He tried to reassure her.

She looked fearfully around the room again and ran her fingers through her hair.

He thought about the pills in his bedside table's drawer. Had she found them?

"I'm not sure I can keep hiding this from her, Gaius," she said.

"Baby, baby, the election's only a few weeks away. If Laura Roslin wins, you can tell her everything. And if I win, you won't have to," he assured her. "Are you sure about Zarek?"

"Yes, yes. She's isolated him from any decision making completely. He's pretty much only Vice President in name."

What could he do with this information, he mused.

"She's got quite a paranoid personality our Laura, hasn't she?"

0.0.0

"Anders! Over here now!" the C Buc coach yelled.

He walked over slowly. He knew what the coach was going to say. His head hadn't been in the game for a couple of days. Then again, his head hadn't been anywhere for a couple of days. Other than trying to work out where that frakkin' song was coming from.

0.0.0

"So we'll agree that we'll move to this sector here tomorrow," Commander Britton told his senior crew as he pointed to a spot on the star chart.

Everyone murmured in agreement except for Chief Specialist Tyrol.

He frowned. The chief was seemingly coming down with something. The man was sweating profusely and from the dark circles under his eyes, he obviously was suffering from lack of sleep.

Maybe he would give Chief a couple of days off.

0.0.0

Ted Baxton had been the bartender at Mercy for ten years. The Tighs had been drinking there for the last six. He thought he'd seen it all when it came to the couple: the wife's binges when the husband was away in space; their equally impressive drinking binges when they came in together. Tonight, though, was a whole new ball game. He'd never seen either of them look so stoned.

At the moment the wife, Ellen, was banging on the jukebox, demanding someone play a different song.

He looked over to see the husband, Saul, down on his knees on the floor with one arm held against the wall yelling, "It's in the frakkin' walls!"

Ted signalled to the head of security at the door. It was time to send the Tighs home to sleep it off.


	23. Watching the Wheels

_Chapter 23 - Watching the Wheels_

Kara Thrace rolled over and looked down at her husband.

When it came to sex, they were extremely compatible. The night they had met, after a pyramid game, the entire stadium had been evacuated due to the Cylon bombing. He'd offered to give her a ride home. They'd had to stop on the side of the road so that they could frak. They hadn't been able to wait.

She had thought it would be a one night stand and they'd never meet again. She had returned to duty and reluctantly had let Lee into her heart again. She and Lee had finally consummated the passion they had always felt for each other on_ Cloud Nine_. It had been wonderful. Lee was a considerate and tender lover. She loved Lee. Always did. Always would.

When _Cloud Nine_ had been destroyed she had returned to _Columbia_ in shock. Sam had called her to ask how she was managing. She started to realise he was more than just a brainless jock. She told him things that she had never told anyone else - even Lee. She told him about her father leaving, about her mother's abuse, and about Zak, and the guilt she carried with her over his death.

Around this time, things got complicated. She had always loved Lee, but she realised she had come to love Sam as well. She had to decide. She chose Sam. She came to think that she and Sam were equals and she should leave her dream of Lee behind. Lee would achieve much more without her. She was destined to be a screw up, and she had to try and remember that.

The next time she had shore leave, she found several messages from Lee. She ignored them and called Sam instead. They spent the entire weekend frakking before she had asked him to marry her.

Things had been going well until this trip. He had been acting strange ever since she had arrived home.

"Are you having an affair?" she asked.

"What? No!" he said emphatically, looking genuinely surprised. "Wasn't I eager enough for you before?" he asked.

Yes, he had been eager-too eager. He wasn't usually so rough either. Not that he had hurt her in anyway but he had been... different. Forceful may have been the correct word.

"No, it was good. It was exactly what I needed," she admitted.

"Glad to be of service," he said with a smile.

She decided to tell him her news. "The Old Man said he can pull a few strings, get me assigned to Caprica base so we can be together."

"Hey! Babe! That would be wonderful!"

"I'm not sure if I'll take him up on it," she admitted. "I don't want to become an instructor again. Not after what happened with Zak. And I don't think a desk job would suit me."

"Nah, can't imagine it," Sam laughed.

"I think I was destined to be in the cockpit. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, babe, I do," he said understandingly. "But I want to be with you all the time. I want a real marriage."

"And what if I'm just not ready for that?" she asked.

"I'll wait. I don't ever want you to get resentful towards me. That I've made you give up your dreams. Look at Adama. Zak told you that every time he came home he wanted to be back up among the stars and his mother couldn't cope with playing second fiddle. "

"Yeah. He seems happy enough now though."

"Maybe he's older," Sam pointed out.

"Maybe he's just found the right woman."

"What? Who?" Sam asked.

"Laura Roslin."

"What? As in President of the Twelve Colonies?"

"Yeah. I saw them together on Kobol."

"That's very interesting," Sam said.

She frowned at him. He had a strange far away look on his face. She decided the rest of her news could wait.

0.0.0

Kara sat in the gynaecologist's waiting room that Sam's team mate, Sue-Shawn, had recommended.

She hadn't had a period in three months. She had thought nothing of it at first. Between her missions on Kobol, _Cloud Nine_ and _Columbia,_ her work schedule had been hectic. In amongst it all, she had frakked Sam, frakked Lee, told Lee she loved him, left Lee because she didn't think she was good enough for him, and married Sam. It was no wonder her body was rebelling and refusing to run like clockwork.

She didn't want to think about the other reason she may not have had her period... A baby...

She admitted she wouldn't know if it was Sam's or Lee's but she didn't care. She would be proud to mother a child with either of them. Sam would be ecstatic, but she was terrified at the idea. She didn't want to find out how much of her mother's blood ran through her veins.

"Ms Kara Thrace?"

She looked up at the dark man who had called her name.

"Yeah, that's me," she said.

"I'm Doctor Simon O'Neill," he said as he held out his hand for her to shake.

0.0.0

Cameras flashed as Bill climbed out of the back of the limousine.

"Madam President!" a reporter yelled. "What do you think about the story in the Caprican Times portraying you as a paranoid dictator?"

"Karen," Laura said smoothly, obviously knowing the reporter's name, "if you knew how many committees and sub-committees I had to go through to make a decision, you wouldn't dare broach the subject of their pulp fiction. Why don't you ask me something about tonight's fundraiser?"

"What about Doctor Baltar's allegations that you knew about the Cylons several years ago and never told the public?"

"I'm not sure where he got that fairy tale from. I found out about the Cylons a few months before the pyramid game bombing. It was kept confidential until public security was threatened, just as I announced in the press conference at the time."

"Madam President, is it true you had hallucinations featuring the Cylons when you were ill with cancer?"

Bill felt Laura stiffen beside him and he immediately put a hand on her lower back.

"David, didn't your newspaper print an article stating that my cancer was faked to gain sympathy votes in the last election?" she asked raising one eyebrow at the reporter. "So how could I have had hallucinations when I was ill if I was, according to you, never ill?"

She started walking towards the building's entrance.

"Madam President, I notice your date is once again Admiral Adama from the Colonial Fleet," a young woman asked. "How are your close relations with a member of the Admiralty affecting any decisions you have to make regarding Fleet security?"

This time it was his turn to stiffen at the question.

"We're paying one thousand cubits for tonight's dinner and that's all going towards the Hospital Foundation," Laura pointed out, giving the girl what he knew to be a false smile. "So bringing an escort means they raise an extra thousand and I'm very pleased with that point. The Admiral and I are here to dance and eat and have a good time. I don't think debating military matters falls into any of those categories."

The reporters continued to shout out her title but Laura now ignored them and headed for the entrance once again.

He studied her as she gave her coat to one of the ushers. She seemed a little pale.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she put a hand on his arm. "Sorry, Bill. Let's go and get a drink before round two."

"Round two?" he asked.

"I have to give a speech," she said in a monotone voice, "lobby at least a dozen or so influential people so that they publicly recommend my administration before the election, handshake and kiss cheek the chairpersons from tonight and, to top it all off, apparently three of the Quorum members have tickets tonight, therefore, I will have to talk to each of them individually so no one can accuse me of playing favourites."

"You didn't tell me how exciting tonight was going to be," he berated gently.

"I didn't want to scare you off. We still get to sit with each other when we eat. And, I was hoping we could have the first and last dance."

"Of course," he agreed with a smile.

Then, he held her arm and they walked towards the main ballroom.

A middle aged man greeted them at the door. He was the co-chair of the event, he explained as he led them over to one of the bar areas.

"And this is the other co-chair," the man said, "Carolanne Finch."

Bill didn't recognise the surname, but he definitely recognised the blonde woman who turned to face them.


	24. Mother

_Mother - Chapter 24 _

"Bill," the blonde woman said with a sour look. "I haven't seen you since-" The woman paused.

"Yes."

Laura guessed that the completion of the sentence would be since Zak's funeral and that this was Bill's ex-wife. She hardly thought he would know any other women called Carolanne.

"What are you doing here?" Carolanne Finch asked.

Bill shuffled next to her, obviously feeling uncomfortable and unsure as to how to respond. He would never embarrass her or blurt out the truth of their relationship even if it would give him satisfaction to boast to his ex-wife that he was, in fact, the date of the President of the Twelve Colonies.

"I'm a paying guest," he said diplomatically.

"I didn't see your name on the guest list. I'm the co-chair you know," the woman said pompously. "There are going to be a lot of rich and famous people here tonight. Even the President."

"Really?" Bill asked dryly.

"You're going to be terribly out of place here tonight, Bill. It won't be like your usual drinking with Saul, watching the frakkin' boxing or pyramid."

Laura's eyebrows lifted at the woman's curse. It wasn't like she never swore but her statement hadn't seemed to need it. She wondered if Carolanne Finch was always like this or if Bill just brought out this charming side.

"I like my drinking with Saul, watching the boxing or pyramid nights," Bill pointed out.

"Of course you do. Either that or sitting and reading some frakkin' book. That was the limit to our social life. Luckily I'm married to someone now who understands that a certain standing within social circles is beneficial to my condition."

Her eyebrows rose even further. Accusing Bill of being a bad husband because he went out drinking with Saul Tigh was one thing, but accusing him of being a bad husband because he liked to read seemed a little ridiculous.

"Your condition?" Bill was now asking.

"My nerves. I cope so much better when I have an active social life."

"I didn't realise you'd ceased your social life when we were married."

The woman ignored his remark and instead asked, "Who are you here with anyway?"

Laura couldn't believe it. Carolanne Finch was so focused in her effort to belittle Bill that the woman hadn't even noticed her.

"He's here with me. I'm Laura Roslin. The President of the Twelve Colonies." She couldn't remember the last time she had introduced herself in such an ostentatious way but the woman was not bringing out the best in her.

Carolanne Finch's head swivelled between Laura and Bill several times. Laura almost felt sorry for the woman - almost.

Travis Goode, the co-chair who had introduced himself earlier hovered about with an obvious realisation of the underlining awkwardness, but also with no idea as to why or what to do about it.

"Of course," Carolanne Finch drawled. "Bill you're here on official Fleet business."

"No. He's here because he is very good at dancing." She looked over at Bill and gave him a slight smile. "And other things," she said in a low suggestive tone. "And if you'll excuse us, Mr Goode, Ms Finch, I think we'll squeeze in a quick one before I have to give a speech." She giggled falsely. "Dance, that is."

0.0.0

"What are you thinking?" Laura asked Bill as they danced. He was so quiet. She hoped, by being patronising to his ex-wife, she hadn't offended him.

"Nothing," he answered.

"You can't lie to me, William Adama."

He chuckled and looked down at her.

"Okay," he said, "the truth is I was just thinking what a shame it was that I hadn't met you twenty odd years ago and that you aren't the mother of my children and not Carolanne."

Her breath hitched and she stopped dancing to stare up at him.

"Bill-" she started but she couldn't think of the right thing to say to such a confession.

He grabbed her and drew her back into his arms.

"Sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"I should keep those sort of thoughts to myself," he explained.

She snorted. "You'd better not."

He held her a bit closer.

0.0.0

"The results of the ultrasound have come back, Ms Thrace," the doctor said as he entered the room, her file in his hand.

"Yes?" she prompted.

"You have cysts on the ovaries," he announced.

"Cysts?"

"Yes. We will need to have you tested."

"Tested?"

"Yes, ovarian cysts can be a symptom of ovarian cancer. Is there any cases of ovarian cancer in your family, Ms Thrace?"

"No. My mother died of lung cancer but, of course, she smoked like a chimney."

"Okay. I will need a blood sample from you today. An abnormally high level of protein in your blood is a sign of ovarian cancer," he explained. "If your blood proves to be clear, you will still need to undergo surgery to remove the cysts."

"Surgery?"

"Yes, a Cystectomy."

"Will I be able to have children?" she surprised herself by asking.

"If the cysts are cancerous, we will be forced to remove your ovaries. However, if they are benign, there should be no issues in the future."

0.0.0

"Commander Adama, nice to meet you."

He politely shook the hand of the statuesque woman.

"I've done up a report of the progress we have made in removing Doctor Baltar's program from the main frame," the woman said, getting straight down to business.

"Admiral Cain seemed to indicate that the entire process could take place in four weeks." he noted.

"You need to appreciate, it's a delicate procedure. I can't just go in and pull the program for fear that the entire system crashes. It needs to be done in increments. Page two of my report shows you which systems have been taken off line and refreshed. Page three shows what systems are yet to be purged. I would estimate I need another two weeks."

"You have ten days."

"Admiral, I'm not sure I can," Gina Inviere started but he put up his hand to halt the remainder of the woman's statement.

"You have ten days, Ms Inviere. After that the Government goes into caretaker mode for the election. After the election, if Doctor Baltar wins, I'm afraid your services will no longer be required."

"I understand," the woman said.

"Good. Ten days," he repeated.

The door of his office swung open. "Bill, I-" Laura was saying as she entered his office. She stopped short when she saw he had company.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"Madam President. This is Gina Inviere, the analyst removing Doctor Baltar's program from the main frame."

"Oh, of course, I-" She stopped talking and stared at the younger woman. Her face seemed confused and distressed.

"Madam President," he said, moving to rest his hand on her arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I-" she started again. "Maybe you could come and see me when you are finished your meeting, Admiral."

0.0.0

"So, anyway, I want to leave training early today so I can go and visit her in hospital."

Sam Anders was not used to Sue-Shawn being so quiet. She was usually always ready with a smart mouth wisecrack but now she was silent, frowning at a space behind his head. He knew she and Kara had been getting on pretty well but he hadn't thought she'd be so upset when he explained to her about Kara's situation.

"She had complications," she repeated his earlier words in a monotone voice.

"Yeah. There's no sign of cancer, but the doctor still had to remove her ovaries. She's pretty upset. We won't be able to ever have children."

"Complications," she repeated again.

"Sue-Shawn, are you alright?"

"Anders, do you remember when I had that time off a couple of months ago?"

"Yeah, sure. What?"

"I had cysts on my ovaries. I went to see Doctor O'Neill. He said they weren't cancerous but I would need to have them removed. When I woke up from surgery he told me that there had been complications and he had been forced to remove my ovaries."

Sam just stared at his team mate.

"What are the chances of Kara and I having the exactly same thing happen do you think?" she asked.

Sam felt a chill run down his backbone.


	25. Grow Old with Me

_Chapter 25 Grow Old With_ _Me_

"You can go straight in, Sir," Laura's assistant, Tory, told him when he reached Laura's office.

He murmured a polite 'thank you' and entered the room. She stood near the window, looking out over her impressive view of Caprica City. He walked around and gently pulled her body against his, running his hands up and down her arms in a comforting gesture. She had been so agitated when she came to his office earlier, it was obvious something was bothering her.

She sighed and let herself lean into his body.

When they were the President and the Admiral, he attempted to keep a rein on his strong desire to protect her with every fibre of his being. He sometimes forgot, and solely saw her as his Laura - vulnerable, sensitive, hesitant. Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies, was none of those things.

She switched personas with such ease but he was still struggling with the concept. He often wished he had known her for a longer period before she had been elected into office. Their brief encounter on _Galactica_ had been memorable, of course, and, he had to admit to himself, laced with sexual tension, but he had not gotten the opportunity to delve beneath the Secretary of Education's smart business suits for a long enough period to meet and get to know Laura, the woman.

Since then, she had battled cancer, been disappointed by her lover, and become a famous political figure. He would have to assume this had further shaped her personality.

Therefore, he forced himself not to smother her and to patiently wait for her to confess what was worrying her.

When she finally started talking, after they had stood that way for what seemed like an immeasurable period, her voice wavered and for once, her tough presidential façade appeared to be completely missing, a rarity during working hours.

"That woman," she said. "She was in two of my visions."

"Gina Inviere? Are you certain?"

"Yes. Her hair was different but I'm positive. When I left your office I had Tory bring me her Security file. It contains a photograph." She waved towards the open file on her desk without turning. "I'm sure. I'm just not sure what that means," she said, admitting her confusion on the subject.

"What exactly did she do in your dreams?"

She sighed again and continued to stare down at the streets below. "She was with Gaius Baltar."

"Baltar? You had visions of Gaius Baltar when you were being treated for cancer? Had you met him?" He found the thought of Laura having dreams about the doctor disturbing.

"Once before I was diagnosed. It wasn't anything noteworthy. Certainly not enough for me to start having dreams about him."

"What were they doing?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"In one they were together at the Riverwalk Market. They were kissing. In the other I was running through the Caprica City Opera House. I was chasing a child. They turned and picked up the child before walking through a door."

"Do you know who the child was?"

"No." She shook her head. "No idea."

"Do you think they were going to harm the child?"

"I don't know. No. I don't think so anyway. There was another person in the Opera House," she quietly added. "She was also chasing the child."

"She?" he asked, feeling her tense even more with this confession.

She turned and faced him for the first time. Her arms slid around his waist and her head rested on his chest.

"It was Sharon."

"Sharon? As in the Cylon?"

"Yes. I didn't immediately recognise her the day you were shot but I've remembered since. I also had a vision with Leoben Conoy in it." She pulled back from his chest and looked up at him pleadingly. He tugged her back in close to his body, once again wrapping her in his arms. He knew what she was thinking. If she was having visions involving Cylons, did that make her a Cylon? Even though the notion was terrifying, he also realised he would continue to love her regardless. That was what love was.

"Thoughts," he said aloud.

"What?" she mumbled against his chest.

"That's what love is. Thoughts. It's not whether or not you are a cylon. Or a President. Or a beach bum. It's not how beautiful you are. It's not how sparkling your dinner conversation is. It's not how fantastic you are in bed. It is those things, but it's more. It's the thought of you. Those thoughts would be there if you had silica pathways running to your brain or not. Those thoughts remain with me when we aren't together. Those thoughts are my love for you."

She took a step back and he could see her eyes were swimming with tears.

"I have a lot of thoughts about you too," she said with a sniff and a giggle.

He bent towards her and kissed her, slowly and lovingly with the intent to reassure her. Whatever Laura Roslin was, she was the woman he loved. They broke away eventually, reluctantly.

"What are we going to do about Gina Inviere?" she asked.

"There's something you should know about her. Something not in the Security file," he said.

She looked up at him questioningly.

"Gina Inviere is Helena Cain's lover."

0.0.0

"Look, I've been waiting for nearly two hours. When is he going to be available?"

"He's in surgery, sir. I can't estimate a time for these things. I assure you, I will let you know the minute he has returned to his rooms."

Sam Anders stalked back to the waiting room and tried to remain calm.

He was a Cylon. He couldn't allow himself to get too angry. He had no idea what he was capable of. He didn't want to know.

Maybe coming to see Kara's doctor wasn't such a great idea. Kara's situation resembling Sue-Shawn's could be just an eerie co-incidence. You read about that sort of thing all the time in the media. Staking out a respected man of medicine might not be the smartest thing he had done in a long while.

He sucked in a deep breath. He would be polite and ask pertinent questions. He just hoped a Cylon alter ego didn't take over if the answers weren't the ones he wanted to hear.

0.0.0

Laura noticed how quickly Bill flicked off the current affairs program he had been watching as she entered the room. Tory had already informed her Gaius Baltar was appearing on the show tonight. She guessed that whatever the shifty scientist turned politician was saying about her it wasn't flattering.

"Tory says we're down another three points in the polls," she told him as she fell into the bed beside him.

"I thought you never took any notice of polls."

She snorted.

"Don't take it personally. People always think the grass will be greener. History shows us that most Presidents don't last for more than one term."

"Richard did."

"Until a certain woman kicked his ass."

"The same woman who is about to get her ass kicked."

"You don't know that," he said.

She smiled over at him. "I know I'm being obstinate about the computer networking systems. It's going to lose me the election, Bill," she admitted.

"I've told you before, you have my vote, Madam President."

She affectionately cupped his cheek with her palm.

"I'm not sure what I'll do with myself when I'm not the president. I never really wanted the position. I was forced into the situation with Richard's attitude to my involvement in the teacher's strike. I just automatically found myself standing up to him after returning from _Galactica_. Of course, that was your fault."

"My fault?" he asked in an incredulous voice.

She giggled, realising she was letting the cat out of the bag.

"I remember we fought about the computer networking," he said. "Rather ironic considering you are now surmising you may lose the election due to this very issue."

She hummed in agreement.

"But I don't remember anything that would suddenly make you into the political force that brought down the incumbent Government," he added.

"Your speech," she said simply.

"My speech?"

"Uh huh. We can no longer hide from the things we've done," she quoted.

"How does that make you return to Caprica and kick Adar's ass?"

"It was inspiring. It made me realise that I had to end my affair with Richard, once and for all. I had to stop using the death of my family members as an excuse for my behaviour. I could no longer hide. I had to stand up for my beliefs, in this case, the successful negotiation with the Teachers' Union and my disenchantment with Richard's new policies which he had been integrating into my ministry without me offering any resistance for far too long. I stepped out of their shadow and became my own woman. I would have never done that if not for your speech."

She looked back over to him and she could see he was pleased by her reaction to his words that day. Now that she had learned more about him, she guessed he had been thinking about Zak that day. He still carried around a weight of guilt on his strong shoulders because of his son's death. She knew that it would never truly be lifted off. He wasn't the type. He loved too much; cared too much.

She took his hand and squeezed it, thanking the Gods that she had discovered his worth and would also be honoured with that love and caring.

"Maybe you could just grow old with me," she said.

"Too late in my case," he joked. "We could sit around and read some books," he suggested.

"Go out to a restaurant which doesn't have to close to other customers when I patronise it... Maybe something that has seafood on the menu."

"I'm thinking we could indulge in some red Caprican wine under the stars while sitting on a blanket at one of those open air concerts," Bill said. She sighed and snuggled closer to his body at the lovely images that plan had evoked in her mind.

"A vacation. Somewhere secluded. We could skinny dip." She waggled her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled. "You could. I don't want to scare the other holiday makers off."

"We could buy a house together. Make love in every room." She let her hands trace light circles over his chest. "It all sounds wonderful."

"And yet," he said.

She didn't pretend not to know what he meant. She wanted to be President. She wanted to win the election.

"I don't want to go to the 'and yet' part," she admitted.


	26. Borrowed Time

_Chapter 26 (Borrowed Time)_

"Doctor O'Neill, your PA left you a message," the nurse behind the counter said, passing him a piece of paper, "and that lady is waiting to speak to you."

He turned to where the nurse was pointing. He hadn't been expecting this visitor, but he obediently followed her through the front doors of the hospital and into the public square.

"One sent me. Simon O'Neill is being made redundant."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your experiments. You're to immediately cease."

"But I'm so close."

"An Eight is closer. She's pregnant."

"What? How?" An Eight? He couldn't be hearing this correct. Eights didn't have the brains to deserve such a victory.

"An Eight has been captured by the humans. A Two saw her in one of their Battlestar's brigs and an undercover Six has learned from an Admiral in the Fleet she is pregnant. Everyone's assignments have been changed to ensure the safety of the child. The humans can't be trusted not to kill it."

"I should still stay. If the child dies, my work will still be needed. Or I could get to see the Eight. She may need a gynaecologist. My position is the perfect cover." He was whining. He enjoyed his work on Caprica. The female human body was fascinating. Why did God choose to give such power to this imperfect form?

"No, One is adamant. And the Twos, Threes and Sixes agree. Ensure your work is not easily interpreted. Cover your tracks. Then, have an unfortunate accident."

"An accident?"

"Yes, kill Simon O'Neill. I'll see you in your next life," she added without warmth before striding off across the square.

0.0.0

Bill was greeted by a man with a shock of pure white hair and glasses with abnormally thick lenses. He took Bill's hand and shook it eagerly.

"Admiral Adama, nice to meet you. Sorry about the mess. I allowed my assistant to have the last two weeks off. This is the consequence. Cleaning is not one of my strong points. Thank goodness the Ministry of Defence branch that employs me doesn't insist on inspections like in other areas of the military."

Bill let the doctor ramble and lead him through a maze of desks, each seemingly scattered with computers in various stages of being assembled or unassembled – Bill couldn't quite tell which. At the back of the room, Doctor Amarak dragged two stools across to face the only computer that seemed to be intact. He picked up the report that Bill had couriered over the day before. It had been pristine white pages in a plastic cover when it left his office. Now, it was crumpled, folded, and marked with bits and pieces of what Bill thought were probably food items.

The doctor flicked over to the third page and pointed to a section near the top. Bill tried to concentrate on the words printed instead of the obvious coffee ring stain.

"Here. She says she has to gradually remove the program, yes?"

Even though he presumed the 'yes' was a rhetorical question from the doctor, Bill answered. "Yes. Each part in stages. So the whole system doesn't crash."

"Exactly. True. This would be the correct way to remove Doctor Baltar's program. It would be a complex procedure. The time condition you offered Ms Inviere is almost certainly impossible. So, this isn't a lie. She does need more time."

"I see."

"This part," Amarak's stubby finger circled a paragraph lower on the page. "She wants security clearance for other technicians she has employed to assist her. Rubbish."

"What?" When Bill had reviewed Gina Inviere's report after Laura had told him of her visions, the fact she wanted extra assistants hadn't been an area that had raised his suspicions.

"The program can't be removed any faster whether you have one employee or ten. As I said, it's a complex procedure. Bringing in a couple of IT kids from the local call centre isn't going to garner any better results. It will have to be done by one person. Two at the most. Some stages will take overnight to run, so working in tandem wouldn't even work completely. It would be safe to say, Admiral, that you should run the names of her colleagues by Home Security."

"I see."

"Now, of course, I've left the most important factor in her report to last."

Bill obligingly gave the scientist his pause for dramatic effect before asking, "And what would that be, Doctor?"

"She lists the components she has removed. The stages as you put it."

"Yes. She has been working on it for a couple of weeks."

"Yes, so it says in her report. Admiral, whatever you've been paying her for, it hasn't been removing the program. Doctor Baltar's program is still intact. Every component of it is still in the Defence grid."

"Every component?"

"Every component," the doctor confirmed. "Very carefully hidden. One wouldn't notice if one cast a cursory check over the system. Or even a more than cursory really. I had to hunt around for a couple of the threads but I eventually found them. She's only moved them, so to speak. Everything she's claimed she's purged still exists in the main frame."

Bill stared at the man. Maybe his dramatic pause had been worthy, after all.

0.0.0

Four was headed for the hospital exit, wondering at the best death – something as painless and quick as possible – when a receptionist called out his human name.

"Your PA, Doctor," she said, waving the telephone at him.

He contemplated ignoring the call. He'd spent the entire afternoon ensuring all the files at the hospital didn't contain anything incriminating. One had told him that if the day came to cease his work, it would be abrupt. With this in mind, he had always kept the contents of the files at his own surgery office concise and inconsequential. They included patients' personal information and the occasional diagnosis, but little about the actual medical procedures he'd carried out. There was no real need, therefore, to return to that office.

In the end, he decided to accept the offered telephone, so as not to raise anyone's suspicions just yet.

As he listened to his PA, an idea formed in his mind.

"No, Mrs Simpkins, don't call the police," he said smoothly. "Please, tell Mr Anders I'm on my way to the office now and I'd be happy to speak to him."

0.0.0

Tory entered Laura's office and immediately went to lower herself into a visitor's chair.

"Don't bother sitting," Laura ground out. "I'll be brief. By law I have to give you a month's notice or pay the penalty."

"Sorry?" Tory gave her a blank look.

"I'll pay the penalty," Laura went on, as if Tory had not spoken at all. "In fact, you'll find three month's worth of salary in your bank account by the end of the day."

"Madam President, I don't understand."

Laura opened her top drawer, removed a file and threw it towards Tory. Several photographs, showing both Tory and Gaius Baltar in various states of undress, spilled out onto her desk.

"It just happened," Tory said. "I wish you knew how many times I wanted to tell you. Your friendship and your trust means—"

"Frak," Laura interrupted, shocking Tory and herself with her vehemence. "Clearly my friendship and trust mean frak."

"Madam President…Laura…I am so sorry."

Laura flinched at Tory's use of her first name. "I'm sure you are, but if you spent the day on your knees begging, I wouldn't care. You're fired," she said in a bitter tone. "Go back to your desk, pack your personal belongings and leave the building. I've contacted Security. They should be at your cubicle. They'll ensure you don't take anything which isn't yours, or make any phone calls. Give them your Security Pass on the way out."

Tory opened her mouth to speak but Laura interrupted. "That will be all, Tory." She didn't want to hear Tory's explanations or excuses. There was no excuse for such a betrayal.

"You're wrong," Tory said. "I would never do anything to jeopardise your—"

Laura spun her chair around to stare out the window, deliberately turning her back to her once trusted assistant, in an act of dismissal.

0.0.0

Four politely shook Kara Thrace's husband's hand and showed him into his office.

He made a point to dismiss Mrs Simpkins, reassuring her that he would be able to calm Mr Anders even if he did show signs of agitation.

While offering Anders a coffee, he found his key for the bottom drawer of his desk where he secretly kept a gun. The gun's serial number was filed off and there was no record of its purchase. This plan was working out better than he could have anticipated. If he had been hit by a car or such on the way back from the hospital, there could have been quite a few questions asked about the presence of this gun in his office. As it was, everyone would now believe it belonged to Mr Anders.

"Do I know you?" Anders asked.

"Yes, of course you know me, Mr Anders. I'm your wife's doctor," he said.

"No, have we met before? Not at a game or anything? You have a familiar face."

"No, we've never met before." He unlocked the drawer and retrieved the weapon. Then, he stood and pointed it directly at Anders.

"Whoa! What are you doing? I just want to talk about Kara." Four almost laughed at the way Anders held up his hands in defence. What sort of defence would hands be against a bullet? Humans were so stupid.

"I don't want to discuss Kara," he said and fired a shot at the man's head.

Something was obviously wrong with the gun and it jerked in his hand, resulting in a less than clean shot. However, it would suffice. Human bodies were so fragile and Anders would soon bleed to death.

He calmly walked over to where Anders's body was slumped on the ground and placed the gun in the pyramid player's hand.

Sam Anders was going to be so easy to frame. Mrs Simpkins would readily testify to the man's state of mind. Kara Thrace's records had been altered. Her file now showed that Dr Simon O'Neill had carried out an abortion and her husband had never been consulted. Sam Anders would go down in history as a man who was pushed over the edge when told of his wife's duplicity. Four could even get lucky and traces of Stims could turn up in Thrace's husband's bloodstream. Pyramid players were fond of the drug.

He positioned the muzzle of the gun deep into his stomach. Dying was always painful. He wanted it over quickly.

0.0.0

Laura kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered her bedroom suite. She could hear Bill's deep baritone voice resonating from the bathroom; singing some song that was a hit probably twenty years ago.

She walked across to sneak a look around the corner, wondering why she couldn't hear the shower. She soon saw why. He wasn't in the shower. Instead, he was submerged in her bath, surrounded by a liberal amount of bubbles.

She giggled at the sight, making him aware of her presence.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Bill, what are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing? Waiting for you to join me, of course. One of the best advantages of being the President of the Twelve Colonies: you get a huge tub that fits two."

She snorted and took the liberty to sip from one of the glasses of wine that rested on the shelf above the bath. It was a nicely chilled Virgon chardonnay. She then swirled her finger around the bubbles to check the water temperature. It was invitingly hot.

"Nice timing," she remarked with an arch of her eyebrow.

Bill gave her a guilty look as she removed her jacket and tossed it into the laundry basket.

"Caught me. Security at the front gate called when your car drove in," he admitted.

She hummed and smiled at the way Bill had ingratiated himself to her Security agents. Government agencies were legendary for their mistrust of each other, yet Bill managed to represent the Admiralty and deal with Home Security in a most amiable manner. "I'm not sure I want to hear about any more of my staff being disloyal today," she said with a sigh.

"You'll have to tell me about it later. We're not talking about anything presidential or Fleet-related for the next couple of hours." His voice was rough, like when he was throwing out one of his military orders.

She frowned and shook her head at him questioningly.

"I'm not the Admiral tonight."

She lowered herself to balance on the edge of the bath, taking another sip of wine.

"Oh? Who are you then?" she asked.

"Bill Adama. And you are Laura Roslin. No shop talk."

"What shall we talk about then, Mr Adama?"

He took the glass from her hand and placed it back on the shelf.

"I'm sure we'll think of something, Ms Roslin."

Bill's hand suddenly snaked out and he hauled her into the tub. She yelped in protest until he captured her mouth and distracted her indignity with a warm, full-mouthed kiss.

"Bill, you've ruined my clothes," she spluttered eventually when they broke apart.

"S'okay," he murmured. "You've got more than three outfits, haven't you?"

She hummed in agreement when his lips found hers again.


	27. Hold On

_Chapter 27 (Hold On)_

Kara was led from the waiting room of the Emergency ward to a small cubicle where a Doctor gave her the facts about Sam's condition.

"You're telling me he shot himself in the head?" she asked, after he explained the circumstances.

"Yes, Ms Thrace." The Doctor placed a film against the wall and flicked a switch to show an x-ray of what she assumed to be Sam's skull. "The bullet is now lodged here." The Doctor pointed to a black blur. "It's in a fortunate position. Two inches either way and Mr Anders would have been dead instantly. Luckily, once a neurosurgeon from Delphi arrives, we can operate and remove the foreign matter."

Kara stared at the man. _Foreign matter_. It was a frakking bullet that Sam had put there himself, not a speck of dust that blew in on a strong wind.

"Can I see him?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"Of course. I'll take you there now. Once the specialist gets here, he'll examine your husband and the x-rays. And then he can explain the details of the operation and the expected outcome to you."

She followed the doctor. Along the way she realised she didn't care what the police said, she didn't believe Sam had murdered Doctor O'Neill, and then turned the gun on himself. Granted, Sam had been acting strange for the last few weeks but she knew, no matter how much the evidence pointed to that conclusion, it wasn't true.

Sam was hooked up to several machines when they arrived at his room. There was a bandage wrapped around his head and his hair was crudely shaved on one side. The hair on the unshaven side stuck up in tufts out of a gap in the bandage's centre. Unexpectedly, his eyes were wide open and he registered her presence immediately.

"Kara! You have to tell them. I remember everything. I remember!"

"Sam, what happened?" She held his hand tight.

"The bullet. I don't know how, but now I remember. I need you to get the other four."

"Other four? Other four what, Sam?"

"Ellen and Saul."

Kara frowned. The only Saul she knew was Colonel Tigh. His wife's name was Ellen too. She didn't know that Sam had ever met her former XO.

"They were there. We travelled together. I have to tell them. It's all so clear. Tory – you need to find Tory. She's probably with Galen. They were in love." Sam suddenly smiled. "I wrote that song!"

"What song, babe? Did you shoot the Doctor?"

"Doctor? No, no. I never shot anyone. He was one of them. I wrote the song! Tell Saul and Ellen. You have to get them here. I remember. I remember everything."

Sam was becoming agitated. The words were flying out of his mouth and Kara was having trouble keeping up with what he was trying to say to her. Nothing made sense. Kara squeezed his hand again and tried to keep her voice a soothing tone.

"It's okay, Sammy. Just slow down. You'll have plenty of time to talk to them after the operation."

"Yes, yes. You don't know where Tory is, do you? Galen's on _Columbia_?"

"Galen? Galen Tyrol?" Kara asked. How did Sam know Chief?

"Yes, I've heard you mention him – when you were flying the Heavy Raider. He was helping. Of course he was helping." Sam laughed hysterically for a moment, before sobering completely and giving her a beseeching look. "You need to get him. He must now know. He must have heard the song. I wrote the song!"

"Yeah, Sammy, you told me," she said in a placating tone. "I didn't know you were musically minded."

"Yes! I played this instrument – like a guitar. You have to promise me." Sam grabbed Kara's hands and attempted to pull her toward him. Heartbreakingly, he had no strength to follow through with the action, so she obliged him by leaning close. "Promise me. You'll call Saul and Ellen. Get them here. I can explain everything. They probably are floundering like I was a few days ago. I remember everything. It's all so clear to me now."

"Saul and Ellen Tigh?" Kara asked in an unsure voice.

"Yes. If they are on Caprica, you have to get them here. I need to explain everything."

"Sammy, you're not making any sense."

"I wrote the song! Everything is so—" Kara watched in horror as Sam's eyes rolled back in his head and his entire body started shaking.

"Sam! Doctor!" she shouted. "Somebody help me here!"

A buzzer went off on one of the machines behind Sam as he continued to shake violently in the small cot.

Three doctors, or nurses, she wasn't sure which, raced into the room.

"Ms Thrace." A woman came up from behind her and gently steered her into the hallway.

"What's happening?" Kara asked in a shaky voice.

"Just let the doctors do their job, Ms Thrace. Come on, let me find you somewhere quiet to wait and I'll get you a drink."

"Yeah." She could do with a drink. She wasn't sure the type she was thinking about was allowed in the hospital though.

0.0.0

One walked into the meeting room and looked around the table. All the models, with the exception of Seven of course, were represented.

"When are we going to stop procrastinating and start the assault?" Five asked before he had even taken a seat.

"We need the computers on the Battlestars to be networked again before we can strike the first fatal blow," Two pointed out.

"To do that, we need to get rid of Roslin."

"Laura Roslin has become a thorn in our side."

"We need to continue to undermine her," Six said. "Once Doctor Baltar is President, his first point of business will be to reinstate the networking."

"Then kaboom!" One shouted and threw his hands in the air. "Goodbye, Twelve Colonies." He laughed at his own theatrics. He ignored the sour look Six and Three gave him.

"We should have struck two years ago while we had the chance," Three whined in her ridiculous Leonis accent that never failed to irk him.

"Patience, dear," he said in a patronising tone. "What else have we learned about this pregnant Eight?"

"She is still on the Battlestar Columbia. In the brig," Two answered. "I thought they would have airlocked her, but according to an undercover Six, she still lives and is due to give birth in a couple of months."

"We have to get her out." Six's voice rose passionately. "They will kill the child. Cut it up to examine it!"

He raised his hand in the air. "I'm working on getting the child back now. I've assigned a Six and an Eight." He smiled reassuringly to the group. "We'll get the child, I'll personally see to it." How ironic. Six wanted to ensure the humans never sliced and diced the child. This was, once the bastard child was born and he got his hands on it, his exact intention.

0.0.0

Laura sighed and let all of her weight lean against Bill's chest. He alternated between cupping a handful of water to pour over her chest and nuzzling her neck. Her clothes were now fully removed and sat in a sopping mess in the corner of the room. The hot water tap dripped at the other end of the tub, keeping the bath water's temperature constant, and leaving them in no rush to get out.

"I can't believe the election is merely days away," she murmured.

"Yeah. We need to make the most of tonight. I don't see us getting much time to ourselves from here on in."

"No."

"Laura, I wasn't going to bring this up until much later, but would you like me to move out?"

Laura swivelled to face Bill. "What are you talking about?"

"The press is going crazy. They continue to ask you about our relationship and question why I'm living here. I don't want my selfish needs to hurt your chances. I could move back to my apartment until after the election. We need you. I'm not going to hand the presidency over to Gaius Baltar."

"Bill, I lost my mother; my father and sisters; fought cancer. Everything I've done for so long has been for the Colonies. I've put my personal life on hold. Being the President was my whole life; my only life. Maybe, just maybe, I've earned the right to live a little, haven't I?" Tears swum in her eyes as she realised how very empty her life was before Bill Adama entered it. Obviously, she had a successful career, but being President made her one of the loneliest women in the Twelve Colonies. "What do you think? Haven't I?"

"Yes, you've earned it," Bill said, wiping at her tears with his fingers.

"Well guess what?" She kissed him lightly on the lips. "So have you." She was egotistical enough to think that she had filled an empty space in Bill's life as well. He'd also lost so much.

Bill suddenly surprised her by pushing her away. She gave him a questioning look.

"You're flushed. You look good."

"Thank you." She laughed at his unexpected compliment.

He rose, stepped out of the bath, took a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist. After twisting the hot water tap off completely, he reached over and grabbed another towel.

"Come on."

"Where are we going, Mr Adama?"

"Bed. I'm going to frak you senseless."

She stood, stepped out of the bath and into the towel he offered in one fluid movement. His eyes ravished her body as she twisted the towel around her. She deliberately tweaked the top of it to accentuate her cleavage before looking up at him through her lashes, and flashing him a smile that she hoped looked sexy.

"How romantic," she murmured and headed for the bedroom.

0.0.0

"Tigh."

Kara paused when her previous XO's raspy voice came on the line. She'd been trying to contact the colonel since Sam had gone into theatre. She'd dialled his number every half hour; more for something to do than to desperately reach him. Each time she tried, the phone had rung out, and she'd taken great joy in slamming the receiver back onto the hook with excessive force.

"Hello? Hello?"

Kara could hear the impatience in Tigh's tone. If she didn't speak now, he was going to hang up.

"Colonel," she said in an unusually soft voice.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"Kara Thrace."

"Who? Starbuck? What the frak are you doing calling me? What in Godsname have you done now?"

Kara thought she might as well tell Tigh what Sam had said. Tigh already thought she was crazy. One more idiotic thing wouldn't make any difference.

"I have a message," she said. "From my husband."

"Your husband? What the frak? Are you drunk?"

"No. He's been shot."

"What?"

"In the head. He's in theatre; to have the bullet removed."

"Maybe you'd better telephone the Old Man; or maybe that pious frakkin' son of his. I don't think I'm the right one to be holding your hand at a time like this."

"I don't want you to, you son-of-a-bitch!" Kara bit out. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath to control her temper. She opened her eyes back up and glanced nervously around the room at the other occupants: family and friends waiting while their loved ones were operated on. She flashed them all an apologetic look before lowering her voice. "Listen, Sam wanted me to give Saul and Ellen a message. You're the only Saul I know. And your wife is Ellen."

"Starbuck, I don't even know your husband. Other than what I've seen on the pyramid court. Maybe he's just confused at the moment."

"He told me to tell you he wrote the song."

The line was silent. The frakker must have hung up on her.

"What did you say?" Tigh suddenly spoke again.

"Sam said he wrote the song. He said he remembers everything and needs to tell you and Ellen."

"What hospital are you at?" Tigh asked.


	28. Here We Go Again

_Chapter 28 (Here We Go Again)_

Laura's office was a buzz of activity when Bill entered. Her schedule over the next few days would be hectic.

After Bill managed to catch Laura's eye, she dismissed the aides closest to her and motioned for him to join her at the far end of her office, the only place that offered them the tiniest amount of privacy.

"Has Inviere offered us anything new?" Laura asked.

"No. Admiral Cain is continuing with her interrogation."

Laura nodded. Bill wasn't wholly convinced that Helena Cain was the best qualified to question the woman they now strongly suspected of being a Cylon, but Laura had insisted. The personal nature of their relationship, Laura had reasoned, was extra motivation. He hoped that Cain didn't find the stress of the situation too much.

"I've employed an officer who was part of my crew on Galactica to assist Amarak in removing Baltar's program. Lieutenant Gaeta – he's a good kid. I've calculated they have about fourteen days. Five days until the election. Then, if Baltar wins, we'll probably have another week or so while we are in caretaker mode. Amarak's using the same method that Inviere did to disguise the fact she hadn't removed the program. On a perfunctory check, Baltar will believe his program is still in the mainframe."

"About time someone turned the tables on Gaius Baltar."

"He'll only realise it's been removed if he studies the mainframe carefully. Hopefully, running the Twelve Colonies will keep him too busy to be bothered with looking closely at it."

"He won't be running the Twelve Colonies; not if I have anything to say about it."

0.0.0

Another One walked into the room, closely followed by a Four.

"We have a problem."

"What kind of a problem could be so urgent for you to leave your Basestar, brother?" One asked his twin.

"The Four from the Caprica hospital resurrected."

"Yes, yes. I told him to finish up with his experiments."

"He, quite cleverly, decided to frame a man with his murder. That man died two hours ago."

"One less cockroach we need to exterminate, brother."

His counterpart waved his hands around. "Yes, yes, I would normally agree, brother, but in this case it turned out the man was not human."

His eyes narrowed. "Not human. Then it was…" The look on his twin's face confirmed his suspicions. "Which one?" he asked.

"Anders."

"Who's Anders?" Two and Three asked in unison.

One ignored them both. "That's unexpected. But you could just put him in your Basestar's brig. Why did you feel the need to come here and interrupt the meeting with this news?" His model was not usually so slow-witted. He must know that the other models will now ask difficult questions about Anders. "Explanations are so boring," he pointed out to his brother.

"He knows," his brother simply said.

He started. "Anders? Anders knows—"

"Everything. Four shot him in the head. His entire memory returned. He knows everything. Earth. The journey. The deal. Everything."

"Earth? What more do you know about Earth?" Three asked. Three's penchant for religion and legends gave her an unhealthy obsession for the Thirteenth Tribe's homeland.

He ignored her question. "Lucky Four killed him, then," he said. He liked to be pragmatic about these things. "We wouldn't want him walking around on Caprica with that sort of knowledge."

"There's more."

One sighed. Today was proving to be stressful. Four had killed a member of the Final Five. A member who, it appeared, remembered his past. A surprising outcome considering the tweaking he'd done with their brains. To complete his nightmare, his brother had announced the existence of a Final Five member to all the other models. Their questions were sure to be tedious. What more could possibly go wrong today? His patience was wearing thin. "We have a plan," he snapped. "Let's just stick to it."

"He remembered before he was shot."

He must have heard incorrectly. One stood and faced his brother. "Before?"

"He claims he was 'switched on' a couple of months ago. Anders already knew he was a Cylon."

0.0.0

Bill stood one row behind Kara in the pyramid arena. Her head was bent and she never looked up.

The Police were still continuing with their investigations, and would not release Sam's body for another week at least. Therefore, this gathering was a 'memorial service', and not an actual funeral.

That didn't stop the memories of Zak's funeral from surfacing. He'd held Kara's hand that day. There'd been full military honours, but few mourners.

Today, there were literally thousands in attendance. A mass of people involved with the game of pyramid– players, coaches, managers, fans –filled the bleachers. The press was also heavily represented, each reporter trying to get a scoop on the biggest story to rock the sporting world in years. Sam Anders, a poster boy for the game previously, had murdered a pro-abortion doctor before committing suicide. His wife was being hounded so relentlessly, she had only come out of hiding for the service today.

Bill had been shocked to learn that Kara was actually staying with Saul and Ellen. He wasn't sure when they had overcome their differences for this possibility to actually ensue, but Bill was glad. If Kara needed protection, he knew Saul would offer it.

Lee stood next to Kara, holding her up; just like he'd held up Carolanne that day. Lee had avoided Kara since she had married Anders. However, it seemed, he'd found enough compassion to stand by Kara once again.

"So say we all," Bill murmured the words that signalled the end of the service. Kara and Lee immediately headed for the exit, keeping their heads down and not making any comments as they ran the media gauntlet.

Bill waited for the initial crowd to dissipate and headed for the exit himself. He was halfway to his car when someone yelling his name made him pause and turn back.

"What is your view on abortion, Admiral?"

He frowned at the reporter asking the question. She held a microphone toward him. Four other reporters had joined her, along with five or six cameramen.

"Excuse me?"

"What's your stance on abortion, Admiral, do you think it should be banned?"

"I don't think I'm qualified to answer that question," he said.

"Have you and President Roslin discussed her views on the subject?"

"I'm the President's Military Adviser. I don't think abortion comes under my jurisdiction."

"Your son accompanied the widow today, Admiral. Do you think the president will be appreciative that members of her confidant's family are involved in such a scandal a few days out from the election?"

"I'm sure the President would be sympathetic to all parties involved."

"How are the accommodations at the Presidential House, Admiral Adama?"

He decided it best to ignore this question completely. He turned and made a beeline for his car.

"What is the exact nature of your relationship with Laura Roslin?"

He ripped open the car door and did his best not to slam it shut. Thankfully he couldn't hear any more of the questions the reporters were still firing at his window.

0.0.0

"Three days to go. This could be the longest three days of my entire life," Laura said, throwing that morning's newspapers into the trash can. "I can't believe the press are bringing the abortion laws into question; using my religious views against me. You should have seen what the Quorum member from Gemenon said in this morning's _Times_."

"I read it."

"And Mackenzie Reed's column? Oh, can she get any lower?"

"Didn't read it. What did it say?"

Laura dug the newspaper back out of the bin. "Here, and I quote, '_Laura Roslin is not the right person to make decrees in the abortion arena. How can she have a strong understanding of the decisions these young future mothers need to make for the good of the child? She has neither experienced motherhood nor pregnancy. She is, to all intents and purposes, barren, and therefore, should not be considered an authority.' _Barren? Charming."

"You could look on the bright side," he suggested.

Laura looked over the top of her glasses. "Mmm?"

"With the whole focus on the Anders scandal, and the abortion issue, they've stopped talking about the computer networking."

Laura snorted.

"I fought for a woman's right to control her body my entire career. I won't be changing any laws; no matter how much pressure the religious colonies exert. Women should be able to decide when the right time is for them. It's not up to me or any other politician to tell them they'd better start having babies."

A tap at the door announced the arrival of their dinner.

"What's Baltar's view on abortion?" Bill asked once they sat down to eat.

"Oh, he's swaying in the wind, as per usual. What is this?" She held up the green vegetable that had been served with her fish and rice. "Looks like seaweed. Actually, it looks like this Aquarian algae that I used to have to clean off the side of my fish tank when I was a teenager."

"You think someone would try and feed the President of the Twelve Colonies algae? It's Tauron spinach."

"Oh, Tauron spinach? Now you've worked your magic with my caterers?"

Bill merely grunted and watched as Laura sniffed the spinach, before taking a tentative bite. She swirled it around her mouth before swallowing.

"Well?" he asked.

"It's okay."

"Hmph."

Laura let her hand slip beneath the dining table to brush against Bill's thigh.

"It seems I'm more than willing to try most Tauron delicacies," she said throatily.

Bill continued eating, pretending to ignore her flirting.

0.0.0

Gaius Baltar poured himself a glass of champagne and settled into his living room chair to read the evening newspapers. He smiled at the front page. Laura Roslin was history. He would definitely be settling into a chair at the Presidential Mansion in a matter of days.

A rustling noise distracted him. The door to his kitchen slowly opened and his eyes widened when he saw the identity of his intruder.

"You! Where have you been?"

His mind was whirling. He definitely wanted to see this woman, but it was only three days to the election. He didn't know exactly what crime this woman had committed, but his gut instinct told him that there was one. "Did anyone see you?" His voice rose in his panic.

"No." She moved out into the main living area. He took in her appearance. Her hair wasn't so blonde. There were faint bruise marks on her cheeks. Her eyes nervously darted around the room. There was something different about her eyes. She was not as supremely confident as she was the last time he saw her, almost two years previous.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I don't know. I didn't know where else to go. Will you help me Gaius?"

His eyes swept across her body. It was as beautiful as he remembered. He was extremely perturbed that no matter how many women he'd been with in her absence, she still managed to haunt him.

"It seems to me Ca—"

"Don't call me that," she interrupted.

"What? That's your name."

"No. I don't go by that name now."

"Really?" Her intrigue and secrets excited him. "What can I call you?"

"Gina. My name is Gina."

0.0.0

Laura and Bill had finished their meal, but still sat side by side at the dining table each sipping on a glass of wine.

"Kara says she never had an abortion. She said the doctor told her she had ovarian cysts that needed removing. There were complications and he ended up removing her ovaries."

"Why don't her records at the hospital match her story?"

"I have no idea. The police questioned Sam's pyramid team yesterday. One of the players was also a patient of Doctor O'Neill's. She had the exact same story as Kara. The police think Kara could have known about this woman's diagnosis, and copied it deliberately."

"You've talked to the police?"

"Yeah."

"Bill, you never cease to amaze me."

He chuckled. "The report from Forensics will be ready in the morning."

"And they're going to contact you with their findings?"

"Yeah."

A tap at the door interrupted them and one of Laura's aides walked in with the evening newspapers.

After the aide left, Laura flipped open one of the front pages.

"Bill. Oh my Gods!" she gasped when she read the headlines.

0.0.0

Ellen Tigh walked into the house with take-out and the evening newspapers.

"Did we make the front page again?" Kara asked.

"Of course, dear. Although you're not the only one."

"What do you mean?"

"The headline is '_The Real Man behind the Woman'_."

"It's about dad?" Lee asked.

"Yes. Your father, your mother, you, Zak's accident, and now Kara's involvement with Sam."

"Oh great," Saul said. "That will make great reading out of context."

"I quite like the bit about Carolanne's pill popping," Ellen said. "Especially considering the way she always stuck her nose up in the air every time we poured a frakkin' drink in her house."

"I'd better go and call her," Lee said, standing and heading toward the kitchen to the telephone.

Kara snatched the paper from Ellen's fingers and perused the story. "How the frak do they turn an honourable person like the Old Man into someone so shady?" she asked. "Lee will love this part: _'Admiral Adama's son was until recently enlisted in the Fleet. However, Major Lee Adama resigned following the terrorist attack on the pleasure ship, Cloud Nine, which claimed over 2000 lives. These deaths were the direct result of Major Adama's incompetence and there is speculation his resignation from the Fleet was forced. He is currently an unemployed civilian."_

"Don't worry about Lee being upset," Saul said. "Bill won't be happy if they're ragging on his family members. He's big enough and ugly enough to take any heat they direct his way, but once they start in on the kid, Bill's gonna be looking for blood."

"Yeah," Kara agreed. "_Kara Thrace, the woman at the centre of the continuing drama surrounding the death of pyramid player Sam Anders, was once the fiancé of William Adama's youngest son, Zak Adama. Zak Adama died in a Fleet training accident. Rumours suggest records existed showing the younger Adama had not reached the necessary qualifications to be in the cockpit. Upon our enquiries, it was discovered that Zak Adama's flight records have been suspiciously missing for several years. The Fleet officer in charge of viper training at the time was, coincidentally, Kara Thrace."_

"Why are the records missing?" Ellen asked.

"Didn't know they were," Kara said.

"Is it true?" Lee asked from the doorway.

Kara swung around and knew she couldn't lie to Lee. "Yeah, yeah, it's true," she said in a quiet voice. "Zak failed basic flight. He wasn't a bad pilot; he just had no feel for flying. And, um, when it came to his final check ride he busted three of the test manoeuvres and I should have flunked him, but I didn't."

"Frak," Saul muttered.


	29. Give Peace a Chance

Chapter 29 - Give Peace a Chance

"I'll have to make some sort of statement," Laura said as she read through the details of the story one more time.

"I don't know, I—"

The telephone buzzing in the corner of the room interrupted Bill's opinion on their dilemma.

Laura watched as his face became a dark cloud after he'd answered the phone with a curt 'Adama'. After listening for a minute, he looked up at her, and then down to the ground.

"I see…no…yes," he said to the person on the other end. "Thank you, Admiral. Yes…tomorrow. My office…yes… 900 hours."

She looked at him questioningly once he hung up.

"That was Admiral Nagala."

"What's wrong?"

"Admiral Cain is dead."

"What?"

"Inviere escaped. Admiral Cain was staying at the Detention Centre in the Officers' Quarters. Security cameras show Inviere breaking into the room and shooting Cain. The suspected Cylon is still at large. Nagala is there now, heading up a team to investigate. He'll advise me of the details tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She knew it was inadequate. Maybe she should have listened to Bill and assigned someone else to Inviere's interrogation.

Bill went back to the dining table and took a large swig of his wine. "I should call Lee," he said.

"Yes, yes, of course," she agreed. "Use this phone."

He stood, looking down at the table, not saying a word or acknowledging her in any way, nor making a move to use the telephone. Eventually, she stood and left the dining room. If he wanted privacy to make some calls, she thought angrily, he could have it.

0.0.0

Bill came to see Laura in the mansion's office where she was going over the next day's schedule with Maya about half an hour later.

They stood facing each other across the room once her new aide discreetly excused herself. Laura looked down at the duffle bag that was hanging from his arm.

"I'm heading over to Saul's for the night."

Laura bit down on her lip.

"The newspaper article has caused a few debates in the household. Kara and Lee need a little bit of parental guidance."

"I see," she said.

"You're busy anyway. The election is the day after tomorrow."

"Yes."

He was avoiding a confrontation with her. A few months ago she would have liked this idea. She had thought, since Kobol, they had moved past allowing misunderstandings to come between them. She thought they no longer had to pretend around each other, or keep their emotions in check.

However, she couldn't beg him to stay; to talk things over with her. Kara and Lee needed their father and she would come across as a completely selfish shrew if she insisted he not go.

"We have the military base visit tomorrow afternoon. Do you still want me to be there?"he asked.

"Of course I still want you there!"

Laura was hitting the campaign trail for one final time the next day. Her visit to a local military base had been planned for several weeks, and her Military Adviser had always been scheduled to accompany her. Now, of course, she knew as well as Bill that the questions the media in attendance asked would be personal in nature. She knew she had to decide tonight what to announce.

"Bill, I have to tell them something tomorrow."

Bill avoided her eyes and studied some spot on the carpet.

"I'll go along with anything you want, you know that."

"But what do you want?" she asked.

"Same thing I've wanted for a long time, Laura. You." He finally looked up and met her gaze. "Not President Roslin. But I can't have you and not her, so I'll remain your loyal servant and let you decide what's best. You're the politician; you know how to put a spin on things, not me."

With that, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips and left.

0.0.0

Bill sat behind his desk reading the report Nagala had just delivered.

"I was worried something like this was going to happen," Bill said. "We should have never let Cain question her."

"Don't blame Roslin. I would have suggested the same thing, Bill."

Bill removed his glasses and pinched the end of his nose.

"How'd Inviere get the gun?"

"No idea. Her only visitor was a priest."

Bill read over the report again, when a thought struck him.

"Doral," he murmured.

"What about him?" Nagala asked.

"I remember reading his list of visitors. This priest." Bill pointed to the name on the report: Brother John Cavil. "He's the same one who visited Doral."

"We'd better run a check on him."

"I guess it's possible he's the same priest the Detention Centre HQ always call in, but check it out anyway."

0.0.0

"Madam President, you have a delivery from Admiral Adama."

Laura took the brown paper bag off Maya and checked the time. What could Bill possibly be sending her that he couldn't have just given her when they were due to meet in less than 30 minutes time?

She reached into the bag and pulled out a box. A yellow sticky note was attached to it. The word 'eat' in Bill's bold handwriting giving her a direct order. She giggled and lifted the lid to reveal her favourite – sushi.

Her telephone rang, and she reached out automatically to answer.

"If you speak too eloquently I'll know you're not doing as you're told."

Laura grinned broadly. Bill might be still going to avoid talking about Cain or the media, but at least he wasn't avoiding talking to her completely.

"Admiral Adama, you can be very bossy sometimes. But also very sweet."

"I just know you, Laura, and I know you wouldn't have stopped to have lunch. The police just called. Forensics have concluded that Samuel Anders was not attempting suicide. From the angle of the bullet's entry and the damage caused, it apparently couldn't have been self-inflicted. They also believe he was shot at some distance."

"Someone else was in the doctor's office?" Laura speculated.

"Maybe. Their tests show the doctor fired a gun. He either shot Sam in the head, or he shot himself in the abdomen."

"Did Anders fire a shot?"

"Inconclusive."

"Have you called Kara?"

"Yeah. She wasn't surprised. She said something odd though."

"What's that?"

"She said, we can ask Sam the truth one day."

"That is odd."

"Yeah. Little known fact, but Kara believes in the scriptures; is as religious as you. Maybe she just meant in the afterlife."

"All your women are religious? Tough on an atheist," she teased. "Did you call Carolanne?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No. Lee thought it was best to just let him handle it. He's grown a lot over the last few months. I need to learn to trust him."

"Bill, about the announcement today—"

Bill cut her off. "Laura, I know how important this election is to you. You say what you have to say. I don't want to resign, but, if I have to, I've had a good career. Admiral Nagala and O'Neal are completely loyal. They'll continue to do what's right for you."

Laura said nothing. Bill was willing to give up everything for her. The Fleet meant just as much to him as the presidency meant to her – maybe more. Yet, he was willing to throw it all away, sacrifice everything, to increase her chances of willing the election.

0.0.0

"What if the other members of the Final Five remember?"

"What if they do? How do you think this changes anything? We have a plan. We disable the computer network; we nuke the Twelve Colonies; we exterminate the humans. It's all so simple."

"But it's not going according to plan, is it? We still have over 120 Battlestars operational and ready to wipe us out if we so much as poke our noses over the red line!"

"Baltar will win the election."

"How long are you going to continue to have such faith in this one man? How do you even know he will let you back into the system if he does win the election? Your powers of persuasion might not be as powerful as you give yourself credit for."

"If the Final Five know where Earth is, we must find them. This is our chance to find the Thirteenth Tribe."

"And why would we need to find the Thirteenth Tribe? Your dream that they are Cylons could be completely fanciful. They could turn out to be just another group of humans we need to eradicate."

"I don't think Earth is the haven you'll be expecting, dear."

"You know more, don't you? You said you would explain everything, but as usual, you've left out details."

"Details too intricate for your feeble mind to understand without you turning them into some sort of crusade."

"Enough!"

They stared at the woman who had just ordered them to stop their bickering. Her identity shocked each and every one of them. Eights were usually not the most out-spoken models.

"We can't attack," she said.

"What?" One, Four and Six all said in unison.

"We're having a child. A child," she repeated with emphasis.

"I told you, darling. I'll get the child," One said in a placating tone.

"That's not the point! Don't you understand?"

"I'm not sure I do," Five said sarcastically.

Eight flashed him an angry look. "I'll put it in your language then, shall I? We can't breed. We've tried it the traditional way; the scientific way; the religious way. No matter what we do, we are unsuccessful. Now, an Eight is pregnant. Don't you understand? We need the humans. We need them to ensure the preservation of our race!"

"I think you're putting a bit too much importance into this."

"Am I? You will all say that the child is the key to our future. But I don't agree. What none of you realise, and some of you are too obtuse to realise, is that this child's parents are the key to our future. What was special about them that they produced a child?"

"They are in love," Six said.

"Yes."

"Next time we frak, I'll say 'I love you' just as I climax. We could have our own miracle child by the end of summer," One said. All the models ignored his crudeness.

"We need to ask the Final Five," Three said.

"What?" One practically screeched.

"If Eight is right, and we need the humans, the Final Five will know. We need to let them guide us."

"They'll probably only guide us to a bar," One mumbled. "Look," he said in a clearer voice, "what is really going on here? Are you all running scared? We need to remember that these people used us as servants; used us as slaves. We are seeking revenge at the highest level!"

"I vote we hold off on the attack. Find the Final Five. Wait for the child to be born."

"I agree."

"I agree."

"Well, of course you two agree! You're obsessed with a human already, Six. And Three, Earth will not be that exciting, trust me!"

"I agree."

"What? Two, have you gone soft in the head?"

"That's a majority," said Three. "I want to know who the other Final Five are. I want to meet them."

0.0.0

Laura stood on the podium. Cameras flashed, taking photos of both her and Bill, who stood to attention in the front row.

"Madam President!" Playa called out. "Are you and Admiral Adama going to address the issue of your personal relationship once and for all before the election?"

Laura looked across at Bill again. His head was bowed. She'd written four different speeches last night. She had the basics of each of them on a piece of paper in front of her. She had thought that when she stood up today she would automatically know which one to read out. She was wrong.

"The religious factions who have always supported you are now questioning your moral values, Madam President. Are you going to reply to their allegations?"

"People voted for a strong independent _single_ woman in the last election, Madam President. Are they going to be duped tomorrow on this point?"

She held up her hand for quiet.

"For a long time, I just didn't make room for people. I did what was right for people. But I didn't love people," she paused, looking around at some confused faces.

"Madam President! What people?"

She ignored the question. "Everyone has limits," she whispered. "Sine qua non, as they say."

"Sine qua non?" a reporter asked.

Bill's voice rumbled across to her. "Without which not," he translated. She smiled down at him.

"Yes. Those things we deem essential; without which we cannot bear living; without which life in general loses its specific value – becomes abstract."

"Are you saying that the presidency is your sine qua non, Madam President?"

"The people are your sine qua non?"

"No," she said. "I'm saying Admiral Adama is my sine qua non. I finally gave in and just loved someone. And everyone can either accept that tomorrow or they can find some sort of suggested implication in that tomorrow, when they vote. I have no power over that. What I do have the power over is to insist to everyone that I will be continuing to have William Adama by my side because I can't live without him."

Considering it was full of reporters who usually shouted out questions across the top of each other, the room was eerily quiet.

She took the opportunity of their stunned silence to walk over to Bill.

"That's not exactly the speech I was expecting," he said.

They swayed together and kissed, the action finally breaking the reporters out of their daze. Cameras flashed constantly and so many questions were being yelled out that she had no chance of deciphering them even if she wanted to.

"Love, huh?" he teased.

"Yes," she said.

He pulled her into his embrace.

"Rolling the hard six and telling the entire Twelve Colonies might backfire."

"I don't care. The presidency is important to me, Bill. But I want you to know, and the world to know, that you are more important. Winning tomorrow won't mean anything if I have to sacrifice you along the way."

Bill's only answer was to pull her closer and place a brief kiss on her forehead, before letting her go so that she could answer the many questions being fired in their direction.


	30. War is Over

_Chapter 30 (and final chapter) - War is Over_

Laura sipped on her second glass of wine as Bill sat talking on the telephone in the corner.

She was wearing his comfortable brown robe with nothing underneath. It had been a long campaign but now it was over. She could do nothing more but wait until the results started to come in tomorrow afternoon.

The press had taken the news of their relationship better than she could have ever had anticipated. The story was on the front page of all the evening newspapers. Her admission was the lead on every television channel.

The public were eating it up. Their 'ice queen' President was showing her emotions – in public. Her voters had embraced her after her bout with cancer, allowing her to gain ground against the then very popular President Adar. Richard's subsequent attempt to smear her by making their affair public had become the turning point in that election. Now it seemed once again that people were finding affinity with her when she exposed her human and vulnerable side.

Back then, Laura had not understood why people had believed her trustworthy enough to make decisions every day on their behalf. She was someone who admitted to using an alarming error in judgement when sleeping with a married man. Yet the people had voted for her.

Now, those same people were favouring her simply because she had fallen in love with a man whose rank in the Fleet also deemed him inappropriate. Her numbers had double in the polls over the last few hours.

Bill hung up and joined her on the bed. She gave a grateful hum when his talented hands began to massage some of the tension out of her neck.

"That was Britton," he mumbled.

"Mmm?"

"He's given everyone involved in the search for Earth two weeks shore leave. If you win, they'll start up again after that."

"And if I lose?"

"If you lose, he has several records packed up and sitting in an airlock ready to be flushed out into space. We've agreed to keep the FTL details public. Our Specialists will continue to work on transferring their technology to our ships. The updated starcharts can be kept. But, all the information on Kobol and your involvement with the Tomb of Athena et cetera will be destroyed."

She lifted her hand and feathered a touch across one of his where it stroked her skin.

"Thank you, honey," she whispered. "We need to talk."

"What about?"

"What you told the reporters today. That you'll resign if I get re-elected. To ensure that we can never be accused of impropriety where military decisions are concerned."

"There's nothing to talk about. That's what will happen."

"We work well together. I know we can separate the Admiral and the President." She turned and knelt on the bed so that their faces were aligned and she could watch his face as he talked.

"We think that," he said. "But we don't know. In reality the lines are probably blurred and we don't even notice. And the Cabinet and the Quorum would continually accuse you of favouritism and nepotism every time a tough military decision needs to be made. No, this is the only thing we can do. If you become President for another term, I will officially retire."

"Bill, the Fleet is your life."

Bill kissed her cheek. "Not my entire life anymore. I now know I have you. I have Lee and Saul and Kara. I don't feel as lost as I did when Galactica was taken away from me. I'll be okay."

Bill rose off the bed and poured himself a drink.

"Laura, there's something else I wanted to ask."

"Mmm?"

"I've never really asked anyone this before - surprisingly. Last time it was a natural progression of things and I just knew that it was expected. This time, I'm not sure about what's expected at all."

Laura lounged back so that her head lay upon the pillow. She didn't know if the wine was making her too light-headed and her perceptions had become unclear, but he seemed flustered. Bill was usually so confident. Even if he was unsure of something, he rarely showed it, even to her.

"What, Bill?"

"Laura, if you say no, I'll understand. We can just continue as we have been, and I'll never bring it up again. But, I want you to know I want this – for us and no other reason."

"Bill, will you just tell me what you're talking about!"

"Marriage."

Laura literally blinked. She looked down into her glass. Had she misheard?

"Bill, I'm feeling a bit silly tonight. Was that your idea of a marriage proposal?"

"It is. Until it isn't." He paused. "Did I just say that?" They both laughed, both hiding their embarrassment and hesitation. "What I mean, Laura, is that yes, this is a marriage proposal. But it isn't, because I think I should do it properly." He took her hand and pulled her back up to face him again. "Laura Roslin, will you marry me?"

She stared down at where their hands were joined. She hadn't been expecting a proposal. She should have. It was obvious he would want to make things formal.

Bill would love her until the day she died. Even with all Carolanne's flaws and all the mistakes he made in that relationship, he continued to love his ex-wife on some level. Once Bill Adama loved it was forever.

Bill held many old-fashioned ideals close to his heart. To her, one of the great mysteries of Bill Adama was why he remained an atheist. He was so steeped in tradition and conventions when it came to so many other subjects.

She had just shouted out her love and commitment to him to billions and yet he wanted to add a piece of paper to confirm that it wasn't all a publicity stunt. Bill had been suited to the military for all these years because he liked order. He liked to be in control. Being married was the orderly thing to do; the right thing to do. It was also him pledging an oath. Not to the Fleet and the Twelve Colonies this time, but to her.

She looked back up at his face.

"You don't want to," he said. "You hate the idea. You're independent, I understand. You've committed yourself to me in so many ways, I need to stop being selfish. I need to look at the big political point of view. I'm sorry."

She lifted her hand and couldn't resist in tracing the lines that marred his face as he frowned down at her – such a serious look.

"Bill, the answer's 'yes'. I absolutely will marry you."

"Laura…" His face cleared and her heart missed a beat at the complete love she saw shining from his eyes.

"Bill, what if I make it some sort of political grandstanding gesture on my part? You're asking a woman whose main focus in life for such a long period was her career and her position. Some things need to be sacrosanct but I just want you to know that I will always be a politician. I know I thought of giving it all up not long back, but I don't think I can. It's part of me; who I am. What if my aides and advisers want to make our wedding into some sort of circus?"

He frowned again. "I was thinking of something quiet. Just you and me; Lee; Saul and Ellen; Kara. Whoever you want to invite. Marcie?"

She tilted her head to one side. "Wally?"

His frown deepened. "If you want," he eventually said.

"Oh, Bill! I'm teasing." She kissed him. "I know how jealous you were that night. I don't understand why. There was never anything between Wally and me."

He pulled her close. "How about not teasing me again until that ring's on your finger?"

She giggled. "Do you know what you're letting yourself in for, Mr Adama?"

"Yeah," he said, sighing and holding her tighter. "I know. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

0.0.0

Boomer watched as he unlocked the door and entered his apartment. She'd been standing watch every morning for almost six months. Now, he was here, on leave, and she had no idea what to do next. She had no plan beyond catching a glimpse of him.

Her heart rate increased when his arm became visible as he pushed open the windows to let some fresh air circulate around the rooms.

She wanted to ask him so many questions. Had he seen her pregnant sister? Did he now know his origin like Anders?

It had been an unsettling experience when One had told them the identities of the other four Cylons who had created them. Had he designed her deliberately with his own fantasies in mind? Was this the only reason he had been attracted to her?

She had always felt she was the inferior model. She was the proficient pilot; the mechanically minded technical expert. She was not the one called on if philosophical or intellectual discussions were taking place. It would make sense that she had been designed by another mechanically minded Cylon.

She sat down on the small brick wall that she had been standing next to, and stared at the ground. Life was so much simpler when she had thought of herself as human. Her memories were so clear; even the ones that One had invented. She still treasured photographs of pretend people who never existed. She devoured any news she could of her former friends - Starbuck, Apollo, Helo. If the other models discovered that she couldn't let go, they would probably discuss boxing her entire model.

"Sharon…"

When had he looked out and seen her sitting here? She slowly raised her eyes to the voice she had wanted to hear saying her name for such a long time. There was only one question she now wanted him to answer: did he hate her?

"Hello Chief," she murmured.

They never said anything else or moved for what felt like an immeasurable period. Then finally, he reached out and offered her his hand.

"Want to come in?" he asked.

She took his hand and followed him, sobbing all the while.

0.0.0

"We need to destroy resurrection."

"Six, are you completely delirious? You really need to stop talking to Anders and Tyrol."

"I've thought about this before they joined us. Our lives have no purpose."

"Speak for yourself," Five said with his usual sarcasm.

"We've changed," Eight agreed.

"But the humans haven't," One insisted.

"For our existence to hold any value, it must end. To live meaningful lives, we must die and not return. The one human flaw that they spend their lifetimes distressing over, mortality, is the one thing that can make us whole."

"I agree," Three said.

"You're right. It was a mistake to give you resurrection," Galen said.

"You!" One's stubby finger pointed in Tyrol's direction. "Don't get to vote!"

"Why not?" Eight asked. "He has more right to vote than you do!"

"Four, Five and I are going to carry out the plan, even if you and your father figure lover here want to start up some hippy commune."

"We voted to not attack," Six injected.

"I'm sick of democracies," One snapped. "After the election, I'm making arrangements, no matter who the President is. Find yourselves some nice little place to sit and watch as we destroy the Colonies."

One turned and left with Five following closely.

The other models frowned when Four remained behind.

"I've been contacted by one of my brothers," he announced. "A Simon who is a medic in the Fleet, based near Gemenon."

"He must have something significant to share if he risked detection by contacting you," Three said.

"Yes. He is married. He has a wife. She is an aeronautical engineer. This was why she was chosen. He now realises he loves her."

"Yes, this happens," Six murmured.

"The Fours hope to finally discover the secret of natural reproduction. The ingredient we all think is essential now exists between this Simon and his wife."

"Love," Six added.

"The Fours no longer wish to vote to attack and we agree; resurrection must be destroyed if we are going to fulfil our destiny."

"And then there were two," Tyrol said.

"Five will never have a clear thought of his own. But One will be a much harder prospect to persuade," Three said.

"I think we need another vote," Boomer said. She would surprise everyone when she made this suggestion. She didn't want to lose everything now though. She had only just found Galen again. Her sister was in love with Helo and about to have his baby. "We need to vote whether or not we should box One."

0.0.0

"We need to tell Bill."

"Oh, Saul. He fought in the Cylon War. The stories you've told me about the atrocities he witnessed where the Centurions were carrying out experiments on hybrids…"

"Yeah, he will take some convincing that we're all willing to play happy families now and live in peace, that's for sure. But he's the only one who will be able to convince Roslin."

"We could just carry on like we were: our children mingling; making their homes amongst the humans. Now that John is boxed, we can ensure all the other models keep their word and don't carry out any further attacks."

"All of them are on the most wanted lists of every authority in the Twelve Colonies. It's only a matter of time until one of them panics and something happens. No, we have to come out."

"I'm not sure I have your faith in William Adama."

"You should, Ellen, because he and Laura Roslin are the keys to our survival. Now that the Sixes destroyed resurrection, they're the only ones who can ensure the survival of our species."

"And if Roslin instead chooses genocide?"

"Trust has to begin somewhere."

0.0.0

"Honey? Are you out here?"

"Yeah."

Bill was sitting, watching the beginnings of the sunset. He had barely spoken all afternoon.

"I know it's a lot to digest. I'm having a little trouble myself. And Saul isn't my best friend."

"I'm glad I've retired. I can leave the final decision to you, Madam President."

She smiled and sat down beside him, lacing her fingers with his.

"You are still allowed to offer your wife an opinion, Mr Adama."

"Hmph." They never said anything for a long while, just sat in silence each contemplating the revelations of the day. "Roll the hard six," Bill eventually murmured.

"Mmm?"

"If we don't take this offer of peace now, they may never offer it again. They say they've destroyed their ability to download, but how difficult is it for them to rebuild it? We've been lucky up until now. An absurd series of events caused them to hold off on destroying everything a couple of years ago. If we don't agree to live in harmony with this generation, to allow them freedom and a voice in the Quorum, the next generation may not be so magnanimous. I think we should roll the hard six and forgive them. Accept them."

"What about my visions?"

"Some of them have come true. We've got time to discover what the others mean."

He lifted his finger and pointed to a patch of dirt in the corner of the grounds.

"I'm thinking of starting a garden over there. I don't know if I have much of a green thumb."

She snorted and squeezed his fingers.

"Romo Lampkin will be sworn in as Vice President tomorrow. I have a good feeling about him, Bill. Maybe, finally, there will be someone I can feel I can trust to make some decisions for me. Finally, I can think about retiring after this term and living with my Old Man."

The sky changed colour: a bright orange with a tinge of pink eclipsing any blue that had previously existed.

"What a beautiful view," Laura whispered.

"It is. It reminds me of you."

THE END

Thanks for all the reviews, especially the guests to whom I can't personally reply. :) I still have a zillion fics to post here, so I'll think of which one tomorrow! There can never be enough a/r, right!? 3


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